


twenty carats, solid gold

by bulletbulletbullet



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (kind of?), Alcohol, Background Changlix, Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Han Jisung | Han is a Mess, Hangover, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Switch Han Jisung | Han, Switch Lee Minho | Lee Know, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know, background hyunchan, okay not really but the emotional part is slow?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27910672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletbulletbullet/pseuds/bulletbulletbullet
Summary: The stranger looked amused, but to Jisung’s surprise, he didn’t see any pity in his dark eyes.He looked hungry. The look was enough to shut Jisung up.The stranger slid closer to him, his lips curling up into a cat-like little grin. “I could help you with that.”“With what - my shitty friends?”He leaned in, his lips bushing the shell of Jisung’s ear as he spoke. “With getting laid.”When he pulled back, he was still grinning. He reached up, pinching Jisung’s cheek between two fingers. “You’re even cuter when you blush, you know.”-----A classic strangers-to-friends-with-benefits-to-lovers fic, probably too trope-y and not smutty enough oops.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 164
Kudos: 641





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I haven't written anything in a really long time and this is my first skz fic. I'll try to keep the tags updated as I post!
> 
> Title is from Mura Masa ft. Charli XCX - 1 Night.

Jisung set his drink down with a sigh, the sound of glass on glass swallowed in the pounding bass of the club. He had lost Chan in the crowd almost as soon as they’d arrived, and Changbin was on the dance floor with Felix - last he’d checked, they had been all over each other as always.

He stood, pushing off of the plush loveseat he’d been sitting on in their corner of the VIP section, meandering over to the railing that overlooked the lower level of the club for lack of anything better to entertain himself with. Turning back towards the smaller dance floor in the VIP section, he leaned back against the railing; he let his eyes slide past the (admittedly smaller) crowd of bodies moving to the music and found himself drawn to a man he’d been sneaking glances at all night.

He wasn’t staring, he assured himself, but he doubted anyone would blame him if he was - the man was gorgeous. He had sharp features, as if he was a sculpture come to life, eyes fringed with dark lashes, lips a perfect pout. His hair, dyed a soft ginger, fell perfectly over his forehead, and his loose, dark shirt was open enough to show off one glistening collarbone. It was hard to tell in the dim lighting, but it looked like he was wearing leather pants.

The man was listening intently to something his friend was saying, but almost as if he could feel Jisung looking, his dark eyes suddenly met Jisung’s. Jisung spun around, probably faster than was necessary, and pulled his phone out of his back pocket, thumbing idly though his recent text messages just to feel like he was doing anything other than drooling over a hot stranger in a club. He switched from texts to emails after a moment, even though he knew there wasn’t anything in his inbox he hadn’t read.

After a few moments of staring idly at his phone, he felt someone lean against the railing next to him. He assumed it was Changbin; Felix was probably off charming a server to bring several more bottles of soju to their table. When he slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned, he was shocked to find out that it wasn’t Changbin at all, but the very attractive stranger, who was startlingly close to him, smirking at him in a way that felt vaguely predatory.

“Staring is usually considered rude, you know.”

His voice was softer than Jisung expected it to be, and the tone sent a jolt of arousal through him.

“I wasn’t staring.” Jisung hated how whiney his own voice sounded, but the stranger’s smile widened; Jisung could feel himself blushing. “I zone out when I’m bored.”

“Mmm.”

Jisung was definitely staring now, waiting for the man to say something else, but he seemed to enjoy how flustered Jisung was getting.

“Can I help you with something, or did you just come over here to tell me how rude I am?”

The man laughed at that, a little ‘hah’ that had Jisung fighting not to smile. “Oh, no, I came over here because you’re very cute and you looked lonely. I thought you might need some company.” The man winked at him, and Jisung could feel his blush darkening. He was no stranger to finding a hookup at a bar, but people weren’t usually so direct. It was disarming, and Jisung found himself doing what he always did - opening his mouth and rambling.

“I wouldn’t be so lonely if my friends weren’t so shitty, they dragged me to this club and then as soon as we got here they basically abandoned me. Two of them haven’t stopped sucking face long enough to even ask how my day was -” he gestured to their table, where Felix was now in Changbin’s lap on one of the loveseats, their mouths still very much attached - “and they all know I’m in a shitty mood because work sucks and I haven’t gotten laid in months, and my _‘wingman’_ is somewhere downstairs without me, because that’s obviously how wingmen work, right?” Jisung knew that he needed to stop talking, but he’d had just enough to drink that he couldn’t shut his mouth. “And then I finally see a very attractive man who catches me staring at him like an idiot, so if you’re looking for company of the pathetic and self-loathing kind, I’m your man.”

The stranger looked amused, but to Jisung’s surprise, he didn’t see any pity in his dark eyes.

He looked _hungry_. The look was enough to shut Jisung up.

The stranger slid closer to him, his lips curling up into a cat-like little grin. “I could help you with that.”

“With what - my shitty friends?”

He leaned in, his lips bushing the shell of Jisung’s ear as he spoke. “With getting laid.”

When he pulled back, he was still grinning. He reached up, pinching Jisung’s cheek between two fingers. “You’re even cuter when you blush, you know.”

Jisung shook him off, but there was something compelling about him. One-night stands weren’t anything new to him - in fact, Jisung preferred them - and thinking about this man above him in bed, pinning him down, whispering dirty things into his ear was enough to have him seriously considering the offer.

The man slipped a finger through one of Jisung’s belt loops and tugged. “Come on, let’s go outside - it’s quieter on the terrace.”

Jisung followed him helplessly.

Slipping past the dance floor, the man led him down a hallway Jisung hadn’t noticed, pushing open a darkly-tinted glass door to lead him out onto a private terrace. True to his word, it was much quieter once the door closed behind them, muffling the music from inside.

No one else was out here - Jisung doubted that anyone in the VIP section was even sober enough to notice that hallway - and the man pushed him into a little alcove between two decorative potted trees. If anyone decided to come out here, no one would even see them where they were tucked away unless they were actively looking. The thought sent a thrill down Jisung’s spine.

Once the man had him pressed up against the wall, he leaned in, but Jisung stopped him with a hand on his chest. The stranger looked at him curiously.

“I don’t do kissing. Um, I mean, not on the mouth.” Jisung kicked himself internally. He sounded so unsure, even to his own ears. “It’s just a rule I have for hookups.”

The stranger looked at him thoughtfully, and then his lips were on Jisung’s neck, just under his ear. He nipped lightly at Jisung’s skin, and Jisung gasped, pressing his hips forward and tugging the man closer by the front of his shirt. “Ooh, responsive. I like that.” Jisung moaned at the praise and let his head drop to the side to offer easier access to his neck.

The man kissed his way down Jisung’s neck in a way that had him wanting to break his own rule, wondering what his plush lips would feel like pressed to Jisung’s own; he worked the top button of Jisung’s shirt open with nimble fingers and sucked a bruise into his collarbone. One hand slid up into Jisung’s hair, tugging to position him as the man desired, while the other found his belt buckle and opened it easily. His fingers brushed lightly over the front of Jisung’s jeans, sending Jisung arching into the touch, the man smiling against his throat. “You like this, don’t you? Letting a stranger touch you, get you all worked up?” Jisung whined as a hand slid into his waistband. “So hard for me when I’ve barely touched you. Such a good boy.”

Jisung couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out when the man finally wrapped a hand around his cock. “You have to be quiet, baby. Can you be quiet for me?” Jisung nodded frantically, more aroused than he’d been in a long time - longer than he could remember, actually. The man pulled back, smirking down at Jisung, and then he was dropping smoothly to his knees.

When Jisung came, it was with the stranger’s pretty lips around his cock, biting down on his own fist to keep from crying out. He slumped back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, boneless, breathless, stunned at how hard and fast he had fallen apart.

The man stood, tucking Jisung back into his pants and straightening his clothes. His nose brushed against Jisung’s cheek softly, and Jisung was tempted to break his no kissing rule again, wanting desperately to turn his face just so and lick into the other man’s mouth.

When he finally opened his eyes again, the man was smiling at him like that cat that ate the canary. “I’m Minho.”

“Jisung.”

“Well, Jisungie, that was fun. I’d love to do it again sometime.”

Jisung flushed, breaking eye contact to stare down at his feet. “I, uh - I don’t really do second dates.”

A slim finger found his chin and pushed gently upwards until his eyes met Minho’s again. “I didn’t say anything about a date, pretty boy.” Minho stepped closer, pressing Jisung against the wall, his hands sliding around Jisung’s waist and down, until Jisung realized that the other man was tugging his cellphone from his back pocket. “Passcode?” Minho tilted the phone towards Jisung and let him unlock it, before stepping back and tapping away at the screen.

“I’m not going to call you.” Jisung felt far less confident about that then he sounded, and even to his own ears he didn’t sound that sure.

Minho hummed at that, the smirk on his face lit by Jisung’s phone screen. He passed the phone back when he was done, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to Jisung’s cheek. He stepped backwards out of the alcove and walked towards the door back into the club.

Jisung stayed pressed against the brick long after Minho’s melodic “goodnight, Jisungie” had faded, his heart still racing, his phone clutched in his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3RACHA is getting a new choreographer...gee, I wonder who it could be?

Jisung slouched down into the couch in the corner of the practice room, vaguely listening as Chan and Changbin discussed the new choreographer for what felt like the fifth time that morning, and it was only 8am.

Pulling his phone out, he scrolled mindlessly, opening and closing instagram and twitter before he found himself staring - yet again - at his contacts, one name taunting him (accompanied by the heart-eyed emoji it’s owner had tacked on at the end). While he’d been able to resist actually doing something foolish like texting Minho, he had found himself looking at his contact constantly in the two weeks since they’d met. They’d barely spoken, but something about the other man fascinated him. He was ashamed of how many times he’d thought about Minho, daydreaming like a kid with a crush, and those feelings were enough to confirm that he absolutely wouldn’t reach out.

For Jisung, getting attached meant getting hurt, so he just didn’t do it. After a string of bad boyfriends and worse breakups, he’d decided that relationships just weren’t for him. His heart was too squishy, too full of emotions to deal with the possibility of heartbreak again. One night stands were enough. He didn’t need anything else - hell, he didn’t want anything else. He’d been happy with his self-imposed rules...until Minho. His near-constant desire to reach out to the other man since they’d met - to get to know him, to spend time with him, to have something deeper - was terrifying.

Frowning at his phone, he locked it and leaned his head back against the top of the couch - maybe he could get a few extra minutes of sleep if he was lucky.

“Jisung.”

Chan was using that tone - his _leader_ voice - so Jisung cracked one eye open and peered across the room at him.

“Please don’t fall asleep. Lee Know will be here any minute, and I’d like for us to make a good impression as a group.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Jisung stood and shuffled across the room, joining Changbin on the floor with his back pressed against the mirrored wall of the practice room, Chan standing next to them as they waited.

They didn’t have to wait long; Jisung could hear a staff member in the hallway, chatting merrily to someone before the door swung open. “Here you go, Mr. Lee, and please, let us know if you need anything at all!”

The staff member stepped back, holding the door open for the new choreographer before stepping away to head back to whatever office she’d come from; Chan was stepping forward with a smile and his hand outstretched, Changbin standing to follow him, but Jisung felt pinned to the floor, his heart in his throat, unable to move.

It was Minho.

His hair was darker now, dyed back to what was probably his natural color, and parted in the middle over the sweatband he was wearing, toned arms exposed in a loose muscle shirt, a plasticy-looking smile pasted on his face as he introduced himself to Chan & Changbin.

“Please, call me Minho - Lee Know is my stage name.”

“Ah, alright, Minho-ssi. And the slacker over there is Han Jisung,” he could hear Chan saying with a laugh, the sound in the room returning with a rush. Scrambling up off of the floor, Jisung made his way across the room, willing himself to keep it together as he met Minho’s eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Jisung-ssi.” He inclined his head in greeting as if they’d never met before, though his smile was decidedly less fake now, his gaze mischievous - and almost fond. Jisung was sure he was blushing, and he busied himself with returning to the couch to dig through his duffle bag for his water bottle.

He could hear the other three discussing the schedule for the week behind him; after a long drink of water and several deep breaths, he turned around to join the conversation. If Minho could be a professional about this, then so could he.

Luckily, he didn’t have to grapple with his own emotions for too long - Minho’s choreography was no joke, and he didn’t mess around, teaching them the routine at a breakneck pace and then running them through it repeatedly. His eyes caught on every tiny mistake as they worked, but he was kind and patient even as he corrected their movements, a natural teacher. 

After several very intense hours, they took a break for lunch, Minho joining them in the company’s cafeteria. Jisung was surprised at how well he got along with their little group; chatting excitedly with Chan about traveling for work, slipping easily into teasing Changbin, sneaking food off of Jisung’s plate. Every time their eyes met, Jisung felt something like electricity passing between them, but he swallowed the feeling down, determined to ignore their chemistry. As if his commitment issues weren’t enough to keep him away from Minho before, the fact that they were working together now was the cherry on top of the forbidden sundae.

Returning to the practice room was a relief - Jisung threw himself back into the choreography, letting the steps take up as much room in his brain as they could, letting them push out any other thoughts he might have. He could feel Minho’s eyes on him in the mirror but he resolutely ignored his desire to meet the other man’s gaze and pushed himself even harder. 3RACHA didn’t usually have such intense choreo for their music videos, but the company wanted them to do something different with this comeback, and Jisung was damned if he was going to let his feelings get in the way of their success.

When Minho finally decided that they were done for the day, Jisung practically flung himself across the room towards the water cooler, desperate to be doing anything that wasn’t staring at the choreographer while he commended them on their hard work; it ended up being a mistake, though, because once he finished chugging what was probably too much water, he looked up only to find that Changbin was already gone, probably rushing off to get dinner with Felix, and Chan was on his way out the door, leaving Jisung alone with Minho.

Minho, who was leaning against the opposite wall of the room, smiling at Jisung in a way that he liked decidedly too much. Jisung had done his best to avoid looking at Minho as they had practiced, but now he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his bare arms or the way his skin was glistening with sweat in possibly the sexiest way ever.

“I thought I told you staring was rude, Jisungie,” he finally chirped, snapping Jisung out of it. “Do you have dinner plans?”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “I told you, I don’t do second dates.”

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Minho retorted, rolling his own eyes in response, “I’m just hungry and I wanted to see if the place I used to eat at as a trainee was still open.”

Shifting his weight, Jisung considered the offer, though his stomach growling quite loudly seemed to make the decision for him as Minho giggled. “Fine, but no funny business, alright?”

Minho hummed in response, and then shoved Jisung towards the door. “Go take a shower - I’ll meet you in the lobby in twenty minutes.”

“Don’t you need to shower too?”

“You just said ‘no funny business’ and now you’re inviting me to shower with you? Make up your mind, Han Jisung.”

Jisung scowled, pulling his arm out of Minho’s grasp and huffing as he picked up his duffle bag. “You know what I mean.”

Minho laughed, the sound like music to Jisung’s ears. “Yes, of course I need a shower too - but I have to go pick up some paperwork first. Don’t miss me too much,” he added, slapping Jisung playfully on the ass as he walked away. Jisung dragged himself to the bathroom ( _not thinking about Minho_ ), turned the water on as hot as he could ( _not thinking about Minho_ ), and scrubbed himself clean ( _absolutely not thinking about Minho_ ).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, you lovely people! Hopefully I'll have chapter 3 ready soon <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad people are enjoying this! Sorry about Jisung's emotional constipation...no smut this time around but maybe he'll get his act together soon...

True to his word, Minho met Jisung in the lobby of the company building twenty minutes later, hair damp and with a backpack slung over his shoulder, a clean black t-shirt complementing the very tight black jeans he was wearing. Jisung felt like a slob in comparison; even though his clothes were clean, they were his spare practice clothes, track pants and an oversized tee. When he voiced the thought, though, Minho reassured him - “everyone at this place is either a performer or a trainee, they’ll all be in practice gear,” - and then he looped an arm through Jisung’s and tugged him out the front doors and down the street.

Minho’s beloved restaurant was still where he remembered it, tucked into an alley a few blocks from the company’s building, and true to his word, almost everyone inside was wearing some variation of workout clothes. Jisung waved to a group of trainees he recognized at a table in the corner as Minho dragged him towards a hightop by the bar, their arms still intertwined.

The food was all korean comfort food, and they ordered probably too much, Minho insisting that Jisung needed to try three different stews and the mandu and of course they needed tteokbokki - Jisung laughed and sent the server away before Minho could order anything else.

They split a bottle of soju, and Jisung allowed himself to actually relax and enjoy Minho’s company. They got along surprisingly well when Jisung wasn’t determined to avoid eye contact; he learned that they shared the same taste in coffee (iced americanos, black) and the same fear (heights). Minho talked about the time he spent touring Japan as the choreographer for a well-known idol group and admitted that his first night back in Seoul was the night that he and Jisung met. Jisung rambled about the drama he’d been binging, pleased when Minho actually seemed to listen, rather than ignoring him like Changbin always did. They talked about everything and nothing; it was as if they’d known each other for years, their banter so easy and natural it was almost eerie.

They finished all of the food, somehow, and Jisung felt pleasantly full, warm from Minho’s company and just buzzed enough off of the soju and the single beer he had. When Minho snagged the bill from their server, waving off Jisung’s attempts to pay for his half, Jisung pulled out his phone, only to realize that they’d been talking for hours, and he had several missed text messages from Chan, wondering when he’d be home, ‘ _don’t forget we have an early morning tomorrow, you need to get your rest’_ (as if Chan wasn’t the world’s biggest hypocrite for suggesting that anyone else needed to get some sleep).

They stepped out of the restaurant together and Jisung shivered in the cool breeze, stepping closer to Minho subconsciously. Minho smiled at him, the light spilling out of the restaurant’s front windows reflected in his eyes. Jisung could feel himself being pulled into Minho’s orbit, a dizzying force that was hard to resist, but he knew that he shouldn’t - _couldn’t_ \- let himself get drawn in.

“Thanks for coming with me.” Minho’s voice was pitched low, quiet, just for Jisung’s ears - not that there was anyone else nearby.

“I had fun.” Jisung stepped backwards, forcing himself to pull away from Minho even as he wanted to step closer, to invade his space, to wrap himself around Minho and not let go. “I owe you, next time’s on me.”

“Next time?” Minho grinned at that, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that had Jisung huffing out a laugh.

“Alright, enough of that, goodnight Minho!” Jisung suppressed another laugh and turned away as if to leave, going so far as to take a step away before Minho was tugging him back by the strap of his duffle bag. He turned back to face the other man with a roll of his eyes. “Can I help you with something?”

Minho was studying him in a way that had Jisung wanting to squirm, like he could see right through Jisung and into his mind, his heart. Minho blinked several times, and then he was pressing close to Jisung - _too close_ \- his lips brushing the shell of Jisung’s ear. “I meant what I said at the club, Jisung - I’d love to do that again some time...”

And then he was gone, halfway down the street before Jisung willed himself to turn around to watch him go, blushing furiously and doubling down on his promise to himself that he would not be using Minho’s phone number.

The next day, after another ten hours of mind-numbingly hard work in the practice room, now with the addition of the dancers who would be in the music video, Jisung was the one to approach Minho with an offer of dinner - “I told you, I owe you for last night.” He steadfastly ignored how warm Minho’s gaze was as he agreed, and the resulting butterflies in his stomach.

Jisung had not thought through the entirety of what his offer entailed; Minho walked to the artist locker room with him, their shoulders bumping together as they walked - internal panic finally set in when Minho followed him into the locker room and pulled his shirt off over his head as he slipped into the shower stall next to Jisung. Of _course_ he had to shower too. Jisung knew that, at least abstractly, but he hadn’t thought about the actuality of _Minho showering_ mere feet away from him.

The concept of a very wet, very _naked_ Minho toweling off in front of Jisung was enough to cut his already short shower time in half in a race to get dressed and make it out of the bathroom before Minho could finish his shower, lest Jisung do something very, very stupid.

Minho found Jisung slouched in a chair in the lobby ten minutes later, immersed in a game on his phone. If he was curious about why Jisung had showered so fast, he didn’t say anything, and let Jisung lead him out of the building and into his favorite jokbal restaurant.

The rest of the week played out the same way, though Jisung was increasingly comfortable with actually watching Minho during rehearsal. He tried to be subtle about it, but he knew Minho had caught him at least a few times, their eyes meeting in the mirror, Jisung flushing red each time. Minho was touchy with Jisung when he corrected errors in his steps - nothing outright enough to be obvious to anyone else in the room, but his hands would linger just slightly longer than they needed to on Jisung’s shoulders or hips, so warm on Jisung’s skin that he could feel the points of contact long after Minho had gone back to the front of the room.

Their dinners together became routine, comfortable. They ate far too much sushi one night, laughing over the extensive bill until they were both crying, slumped against the wall outside of the restaurant trying to catch their breath (“ _Hyung, how did you let me eat $200 worth of sushi??_ ”). The next night they spent hours at a nearby noraebang; Jisung surprised Minho with his knowledge of Twice choreography, pleased with the infectious grin on Minho’s face as he joined in for 'Fancy.' If Jisung chose 2PM’s ‘My House’ as his next song to impress Minho with more of his dancing, no one needed to know, especially not Minho.

The evening after their last day of rehearsal, Chan insisted that 3RACHA eat dinner together - he liked to be in control of their every movement the night before a video shoot, making sure they were all eating properly, getting enough water, going to sleep early enough. Felix and Hyunjin tagged along, waving goodbye to the rest of the dancers, and Jisung grabbed Minho’s hand, pulling him along with the group without asking. If anyone was surprised by the sudden development, they didn’t say anything, happy to have Minho joining them.

No one said anything when they sat practically on top of each other, limbs entwined while they ate, or when a whined “ _hyung_ ” was enough to have Minho feeding Jisung off of his own plate. Jisung was too caught up in Minho, the two of them in their own little world talking about random nothings, to see Felix and Chan exchanging a look across the table, Felix’s eyebrows raised. Jisung was touchy with anyone who allowed it, so it didn’t necessarily mean anything, even if his friends were surprised at how close the two had become so quickly.

Though they had spent every evening together for the last week, Minho hadn’t brought up his _offer_ to Jisung again after that first dinner - he was apparently respecting Jisung’s insistence that nothing was going to happen. Jisung wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed, his temptation to reach out to Minho each night after he got home stronger than the last. Tonight was no different; after dinner was finished, Chan practically shoved Jisung & Changbin into a rideshare, climbing in after them, and though Jisung wouldn’t admit it, he watched Minho chatting animatedly with Felix & Hyunjin as they pulled away, unable to look away as they grew smaller and smaller through the back window. It felt like his phone was burning a hole in his back pocket - if he missed Minho so much, he could just text him when they got home, right? As much as a part of Jisung (desperately) wanted to give in, a much larger, much more stubborn part still refused.

If he had been scared of heartbreak before without even knowing Minho, it was a thousand times worse now. Minho had swiftly become very important to Jisung, and he was certain the risk to his heart was far worse than any rewards would be if he gave in and hooked up with him again. Though Jisung had been the one to bring up not wanting to date - both times - it was clear to him that Minho didn’t want anything deeper than a physical relationship based on his reactions to Jisung’s _rules_. If anything happened, it would end up hurting both of them, and Jisung couldn’t live with himself if that was the case.

Once they made it home, Jisung followed Changbin to the living room, flopping down on their couch while Chan busied himself with his laptop - probably running through the details for their shoot again.

“Changbin-ah?”

“What’s up?”

“Will you wake me up tomorrow morning? I want to shut my phone off so I don’t stay up all night on youtube.” It was an easy enough excuse - Jisung was well known to watch random videos until the early hours of the morning - and he knew that if he didn’t shut his phone off, he’d be too tempted to reach out to Minho.

“Sure. Chan will probably beat me to it, though.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jisung replied with a chuckle.

“So -” Changbin turned himself towards Jisung on the couch, his voice taking on a different tone, “you and Minho seem…close.”

Jisung tried to look neutral at that statement, responding with a noncommittal hum before he spoke. “Ah, we just get along really well. Similar personalities.”

“You’ve barely spoken to him during practice.”

“Oh.” Jisung twisted one of his rings around, a nervous habit he’d always had. “We, uh, ended up having dinner together a bunch this week. You’re always off with Felix, and you know what Chan’s schedule is like…” he trailed off, eyes in his lap.

“I didn’t say it was bad, Han-ah. You’re allowed to make new friends.”

Jisung rolled his eyes, and then used Changbin to propel himself off the couch, his faux-angry ‘ _yah!_ ’ in response to being treated like furniture finally putting a smile on Jisung’s face.

“Goodnight, Binnie.”

“Get some sleep, bro.”

Jisung nodded as he walked away - if he had to turn his phone off and shove it in his sock drawer to avoid temptation and get some rest, so be it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is on the short side, but there's more on the way soon :)

The shoot went off without a hitch, a pleasant surprise considering how much all three members of the group tended to nitpick their own work. Something about Minho watching from over the producers’ shoulders had Jisung dancing harder than he usually did, and for once, he didn’t struggle to remember any of the steps or forget any of his lyrics.

Chan was clearly thrilled with the outcome, his happiness bolstered by the satisfied faces of their producers and managers as they watched the final shot over the playback monitor before calling a wrap.

Jisung found himself looking for Minho unconsciously, and when he realized that he had been watching him already, he couldn’t stop the smile that broke out. He squeezed past a group of techs who were already breaking down lighting equipment and wrapped Minho up in a hug, letting himself get carried away for a moment before he pulled back.

“You’re really something else when you perform, Hannie.” Minho had that fond look on his face again, and Jisung could feel himself flushing at the praise. Before he could respond, Chan was at his side, Changbin not far behind.

“Thank you for your hard work, Minho-ssi!”

“It was my pleasure, Chan, really. I hope the company contracts me to work with you again some time.”

“We’d all love that,” Changbin replied, the bright smile on his face a contrast to his all-black video wardrobe. “What’s next on your schedule?”

“Ah, next week I get to work on the debut video for that new idol group…” Minho trailed off as they all nodded, knowing he probably couldn’t say anything else thanks to contractual obligation. “Wish me luck - they have twelve members, I’m sure it won’t be a headache at all.”

Changbin and Chan did wish him luck before wandering off towards the space that had been set up as their dressing room, but Jisung found himself reluctant to follow them. It was just hitting him that he didn’t know when he’d see Minho next - they’d probably run into each other at work, but there was no guarantee. Of course, Jisung did have Minho’s number; he could just text him and they could make plans like actual friends did, but something about that idea still had Jisung feeling uncertain.

Jisung realized he’d been zoning out, lost in his own thoughts, when Minho reached out and brushed his hair out of his face. “I can practically hear you thinking, Jisungie. Relax. You should go get changed before they come looking for you.” Jisung nodded, slowly, unsure what to say. Minho just laughed, a sound Jisung had come to really enjoy - and then he reached out with both hands, setting them on Jisung’s shoulders and spinning him around to face in the direction the other two had gone. He could feel Minho behind him, a familiar presence at his back, his chin coming to rest on Jisung’s shoulder. “Seriously, go. Besides - it’s not like you don’t know how to find me.”

Before Jisung could say or do anything, Minho was pushing him away to stumble in the direction of the dressing room, and it took every ounce of his self control to keep walking without turning back to see if the other man was still watching him.

After a car ride home spent napping and a round of showers spent vigorously scrubbing off makeup, Changbin proposed that they go out to celebrate - apparently Hyunjin and Felix had found some hot new club and were going to meet them there with some of the other dancers. When they arrived, the place was jam-packed, though the VIP section was far less crowded, which Jisung was thankful for.

The music was good, and one round of shots turned into two, turned into three, turned into five, everyone cheers-ing to a successful shoot. Soon enough, most of the group was having a little bit more fun than they usually did, as evidenced by the empty bottles littering their table.

Taking a break from the dance floor, Jisung sat down on one of the couches at their table, though his quiet moment was quickly interrupted by Felix and Hyunjin joining him, squeezing onto the couch on either side of him. They were both giggling, definitely drunk and having the time of their lives, and Hyunjin was quick to pour more shots, pressing one into Jisung’s hand.

“Drink up, Jisungie!!”

Jisung obeyed, even as he knew he was well past his own limit at this point.

Felix cuddled up to Jisung’s side as Hyunjin draped himself over the arm of the couch, peering at the dance floor before turning his attention back to his friends. “Alright, enough resting, let’s dance!”

“We just _stopped_ dancing,” Jisung replied, though he doubted Hyunjin had even heard him over Felix squealing and leaping off of the couch to run back to the dance floor and throw himself into Changbin’s arms.

“Coming, Ji?” Hyunjin was standing over him, head tilted questioningly.

“Nah, m’gonna rest for another minute.”

Hyunjin shrugged in response, and then he was gone, already dancing before his feet even hit the dance floor.

Jisung could feel all of the drinks he’d had catching up to him suddenly, and all he could focus on was the fact that he missed Minho intensely, the feeling a deep ache inside of his body. Jisung poured himself another shot, downing it quickly. Why wasn't Minho here? Why hadn’t he texted Minho? _He should just text Minho!_

Feeling suddenly bold, Jisung pulled his phone out and unlocked it; the brightness of the screen had his vision doubling, and he squeezed one eye shut to scroll through his contacts until he found Minho’s name - why had he been so scared to text him all this time? He couldn’t remember why it was a bad idea, and he smiled to himself as he typed. Once he texted Minho, everything would be good - everything would be great!

> _hyuuung_
> 
> _minho hyuuungg_
> 
> _wheRe are u?_
> 
> _come dance with me!!!!!!!!_
> 
> Hi Jisungie! Who gave you alcohol?
> 
> _hyungg! miss youuuu_
> 
> _wanna see you dncingg_
> 
> _ur so sexy whenn you dance_
> 
> _Ur secxy all the timee_
> 
> Where are you, baby?
> 
> _gonnna come dnce with me??_
> 
> **_User sent a pin._ **
> 
> Something like that. I’ll be there soon.
> 
> _yaaaaayyyyyy!!!_
> 
> _😘😘_

Jisung settled back against the couch, sighing happily even as the room started to blur and spin around him. Minho was coming, and that was all that mattered.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello welcome to the longest chapter ever, seriously I didn't know where to cut this. I know none of the other chapters will even be close to this long, oop. Tags have been updated, please mind them!

Jisung woke up slowly, a headache throbbing dully behind his eyelids. He stretched all four limbs out, and then stopped with a jolt - he could never stretch that far in his own bed. Keeping his eyes shut, Jisung reminded himself to calm down and breathe as he attempted to figure out where he was.

The bed was nice - definitely larger than his own, and the sheets were high quality. Opening one eye, he was pleased to find that whoever owned the bedroom he was in had blackout curtains on their windows, the room dim enough to keep from further exacerbating his hangover. He cracked open his other eye and propped himself up. He was alone in what appeared to be someone’s master bedroom, though he could hear water running somewhere, and he thought he smelled coffee.

Sitting up, Jisung swung his legs over the side of the bed. There was a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the nightstand, and Jisung gratefully took two, swallowing them down with half the glass in one go.

His cellphone and glasses were on the nightstand too, thankfully. He slipped his glasses on, and then unlocked his phone. It was close to noon, but he didn’t have any missed notifications, so Chan probably knew where he was, which was reassuring.

And then he found his text history, which was the opposite of reassuring. His texts to Minho were beyond embarrassing, and now he was certain that he was in Minho’s bed after having drunkenly thrown himself at the other man. Jisung was mortified.

Jisung was mortified and he was wearing Minho’s clothes. At the very least Minho’s t-shirt, though thankfully he was still in his own boxer briefs. He stood, creeping to the foot of the bed, hoping to find his clothes and make a hasty escape, but his own tee and overalls were nowhere in sight. A folded pair of sweatpants was sitting on top of Minho’s dresser, and Jisung sighed, picking them up and tugging them on.

Minho’s bedroom had an en suite bathroom, and Jisung stepped into it cautiously, bracing himself as he turned on the lights. It seemed like the painkillers were doing their job, as the pain in his head remained a dull throb even after the lights came on. Shuffling over to the sink, Jisung studied his reflection with a frown - he looked terrible, eyeliner smudged under both eyes, his hair a complete disaster. His mouth tasted awful, but it looked like Minho had thought of that too - a travel toothbrush, still in it’s plastic wrapper, was lying next to the sink near Minho’s own toothbrush and toothpaste. Jisung unwrapped the toothbrush and borrowed some of Minho’s toothpaste; once he was done brushing his teeth, he splashed some water on his face and scrubbed the remains of his eyeliner off as best he could, and then worked his fingers through his hair until it was less horrifying.

Leaning against the edge of the sink, Jisung closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. The thought of leaving the bedroom and facing Minho was terrifying, but he knew he had to do it.

Slipping back out of the bathroom, Jisung approached the bedroom door cautiously, reaching out for the handle slowly, his brain running a mile a minute conjuring up scenarios of what he would find on the other side. What he found was a small landing with a staircase leading down. The smell of coffee was stronger now, and that was enough temptation to have Jisung lifting his leaden feet and making his way down the stairs. The first floor was an open-plan living space with large windows overlooking Seoul; Jisung was glad Minho had sheer curtains pulled closed over the glass, dimming the bright sunlight. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Jisung turned to find the kitchen underneath the lofted bedroom - Minho was sitting on the floor with his back against the counter, playing with an orange and white cat. The cat noticed Jisung first and rolled up off of it’s back to run from the room; Jisung watched as it wedged itself under Minho’s couch.

When he turned back to the kitchen, Minho was smiling up at him. “Morning, Hannie.” His voice had a singsong tone to it, a teasing quality that set off the butterflies in Jisung’s stomach that always seemed to show up whenever Minho was around.

“You have a cat?” Jisung didn’t know why that was what he was leading with, but it was probably a much safer avenue of discussion than talking about what had happened the night before.

Minho hummed, pushing himself to stand. “I have three, actually.” He peered around Jisung into the living room, and then pointed to the top of a bookshelf against the wall - where another orange and white cat was sleeping. “That’s Doongie, and Soonie’s the one hiding under the couch. Dori’s probably sleeping somewhere too.”

“You never told me about them!”

“I used to talk about them a lot, but I baby them too much. People think it’s weird. I’ve learned to not bring them up so much.”

Jisung frowned at that. “You know I don’t think you’re weird, hyung.”

“That’s because you’re just as weird as me, Jisungie.”

Jisung rolled his eyes at that, leaning a hip against the kitchen island. “Do I smell coffee?”

“Of course that’s what you care about.” Minho laughed, turning around and busying himself with what Jisung could now see was a countertop espresso machine. When he turned back around, he held a glass out to Jisung. “Your iced americano, princess.”

Jisung flushed red, but he still reached out to take the glass with greedy hands. He took a long drink, sighing happily as he set the glass down on the island. “You spoil me.”

Minho was facing away from Jisung, presumably working on his own cup of coffee, but Jisung swore he could see a blush rising up Minho’s neck, his ears turning pink. When he turned back around, he looked normal enough, so Jisung brushed it off as his own imagination running wild.

“So, do you want to talk about why I found you taking a drunken nap in the VIP section of some club last night?”

“Ah.” Jisung swallowed heavily, looking at the floor. “Not particularly. Actually, I was just going to grab my clothes and get out of your hair, stop taking advantage of your hospitality.” He had less than zero desire to talk about how he’d gotten far too drunk because he was missing Minho, and he would absolutely never be talking about the text messages he’d sent. To add insult to injury, he’d made Minho come get him and take care of him when he was a complete mess. It was awful.

Minho’s feet came into view, toes stopping a few inches short of Jisung’s own. “Jisungie.” Jisung didn’t look up, too stubbornly embarrassed. “ _Hannie_.” Minho sighed and reached out to push Jisung’s chin up until he could make eye contact. “You’re not taking advantage of me, Jisung. You could never be a burden to me.” Jisung bit his lip anxiously, wanting to look away again but unable to pull his eyes away from Minhos. “Besides,” the other man continued, signature smirk starting to form, eyes crinkling, “you snore in the cutest way, and you’re very cuddly when you’re asleep.” Jisung narrowed his eyes, fighting to keep from smiling back at Minho, and reached out with both hands to shove the other man backwards gently.

“Don’t make fun of me, hyung! I was drunk!” Jisung was whining again, but he couldn’t stop himself from taking that tone around Minho - it just slipped out.

Minho was undeterred, and shuffled forward again, pulling a resisting Jisung into a hug until he finally relaxed in Minho’s arms, nose pressed against Minho’s neck. Jisung knew he was walking a dangerous line, but he couldn’t stop himself. Minho was too familiar, too warm. It felt too good to be close to him.

After what could have been seconds or hours, Minho finally pulled back, releasing Jisung. “I washed your clothes, they’re in the dryer now. They should be done in a little while. Let me make you breakfast?”

“You can cook?”

“Nothing gourmet, but it’s passable.”

It was _more_ than passable. Minho made pancakes as Jisung watched, perched on the kitchen island, finishing his coffee. He loaded Jisung’s plate full, topping the pancakes with butter and an embarrassing amount of syrup, knowing Jisung’s love of sweets well by now. The island had two stools; when Minho was done cooking, Jisung hopped down so they could eat, sitting close on the stools, Jisung’s knee knocking into Minho’s, their shoulders pressed together. Jisung devoured his pancakes, humming happily, his hangover long forgotten in the face of pain killers, caffeine, carbs and sugar. When they finished, Jisung snagged the dishes out from under his host, insisting on washing up as repayment for being such a freeloader.

The dishes didn’t take long, and once they were dripping in Minho’s drying rack, Jisung turned to find Minho watching him, a warm smile on his face. Jisung found himself smiling back.

“Hi.” Jisung’s voice was quiet, almost shy.

“Hi.” Minho stepped closer, pressing Jisung back against the sink. His hands found Jisung’s hips, thumbs rubbing circles into his skin through the borrowed shirt. Jisung’s heart was suddenly racing - from the domesticity of their impromptu morning together, from how close Minho was, from the look on Minho’s face, from the weeks of wanting. From all of it.

“Minho…” he trailed off, not sure what he wanted to say, whether he wanted to stop Minho or beg him for more.

Minho’s tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. Jisung swallowed thickly.

Closing the (admittedly miniscule) distance between them, Minho pressed his hips against Jisung’s; Jisung gasped raggedly. He couldn’t stop the whimpered “ _please_ ” that broke out of his mouth.

Minho leaned in, nose brushing Jisung cheek, lips finding Jisung’s jaw, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as Minho kissed his way down Jisung’s neck. Jisung was practically panting, hands tangled in the shoulders of Minho’s shirt so tightly his knuckles were white.

Minho pulled back to look at Jisung, his eyes dark. His voice was rough when he finally spoke, sending a thrill down Jisung’s spine. “I know you don’t do...whatever this is. I know you don’t want strings. That’s fine - I can do this without strings.” Jisung was struggling to agree with that, but part of him - a large part, growing larger by the second - was desperate to take Minho at his word.

“No strings?” He hated how small his own voice sounded. How weak.

“Whatever you want.” Minho’s voice was laced with want, with need, and Jisung could feel himself crumbling. “ _Please_.”

Jisung had never wanted to kiss someone more, but he knew if he crossed _that_ line he was done for. Instead, he surged forward to press his lips to Minho’s neck, channeling his feelings into the way he kissed his way down to the other man’s collarbone, peeking out of the loose neck of his shirt, as Minho gasped. Jisung bit his way across Minho’s skin to work his way up the other side of his neck as Minho slid his hands around Jisung’s waist and down. He grabbed Jisung’s ass, squeezing roughly; Jisung broke away from his neck as Minho rolled his hips, a stuttered “ _fuck, hyung_ ” escaping him, lips at Minho’s ear.

Minho growled at that and lifted Jisung, who went willingly, wrapping his legs around the other man’s hips. “Hyung?”

“We’re going upstairs, baby.”

Jisung flushed at the endearment; he was already unbearably aroused, but the way Minho carried him up the stairs like it was nothing had him burying his face in Minho’s neck and whining, hips canting against Minho in a desperate bid for friction.

Minho dropped Jisung onto the bed and climbed on top of him, pressing him down into the sheets. “I’m going to make you feel so good, Hannie, and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.” Jisung whimpered at that, Minho smiling down at him predatorily, the look in his eyes familiar from the night they’d met.

Sitting up, Minho slipped his hands under the hem of Jisung’s shirt, sliding up his stomach to his chest, tugging the shirt up as he went. Jisung watched him, eyes on Minho’s face, bottom lip snagged between his teeth. He raised his arms automatically, letting Minho pull the shirt off over his head; Minho dropped the shirt over the side of the bed as Jisung let his hands rest on Minho’s thighs.

The hickey Minho had given Jisung three weeks prior was long gone, but he seemed to remember exactly where it had been, his lips finding the same spot easily, biting and sucking until a new bruise bloomed in its place, Jisung squirming beneath him. He left a trail of smaller marks down Jisung’s chest, his hands skimming his sides before running over his abs, fingers trailing across Jisung’s waistband teasingly. Minho flattened his tongue and lathed it over Jisung’s left nipple before biting it, tugging gently with his teeth; Jisung hissed as Minho repeated the process on the right side.

Minho slid backwards, nosing his way further down Jisung’s chest, biting, kissing, dipping his tongue into his belly button, hands working over Jisung’s thighs, never quite where the other man desperately wanted them. Minho worked his fingers under the edge of the borrowed sweats slowly before pushing them down just far enough to reveal a hipbone, where he spent a minute working on another hickey while Jisung moaned.

Slipping off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor, Minho tugged Jisung towards him by the hips until his ass was resting on the edge, legs dangling over the side. Jisung could feel Minho’s breath on him, and he propped himself up on his elbows to stare down at him open-mouthed as Minho finally took pity on him and dragged Jisung’s pants and briefs off. Minho was done teasing; he leaned over and sucked the head of Jisung’s cock into his mouth as the other man keened.

Jisung remembered how quickly he’d fallen apart the last time, and after a few minutes he worked a shaking hand into Minho’s hair to tug until Minho’s mouth slid up and off of his cock. He looked up at Jisung with dark eyes, lips red and slick with spit.

“Hyung…” Jisung trailed off, unable to voice his thoughts.

Minho ran his hands up Jisung’s thighs, squeezing gently. “What is it, Hannie? I can’t read your mind, baby, you have to use your words.” Jisung flushed, agonized under Minho’s teasing gaze. “Don’t you want to be good for me?” Jisung nodded, frantically, wanting nothing more, forcing himself to say it.

“I don’t wanna come like this.”

“Oh?”

“Wanna come on hyung’s cock.” The words came out in a rush, Jisung blushing like mad, cock twitching against his stomach at the combined sensations of arousal and shame.

Minho grinned up at him. “So good for hyung. My good boy.” Jisung gasped, the praise and the possessive tone in Minho’s voice pushing him closer to the edge. “Lie down, baby.” Jisung complied, dropping back down to the bed and letting Minho manhandle him until he was positioned how the other man wanted, knees bent at the edge of the bed.

Jisung cried out at the first brush of Minho’s tongue over his hole, letting himself be loud as the other man worked him open with his mouth and then his fingers. He lost track of time as Minho kept him pinned to the bed with pleasure; at some point, Minho must have added lube, his fingers slick, sliding easily into Jisung. The pads of his fingers brushed over Jisung’s prostate and Jisung arched on the bed, back bowing, gasping. He couldn’t stop the rush of words, suddenly desperate, begging, rambling ( _please hyung please please I need you fuck Minho please_ ) before Minho finally relented, pulling away to tug his own clothes off and find a condom as Jisung wiggled back to the center of the bed, mouth watering as he watched Minho strip, grasping himself roughly and stroking once, twice before putting on the condom.

He climbed back onto the bed, gathering Jisung into his arms, flipping him over and pressing him down into the sheets before tugging his hips up. Jisung pressed his face into the mattress, embarrassed by how Minho had his pulse racing, mouth opening involuntarily as Minho finally, finally pushed into him, achingly slow, hands so tight on Jisung’s hips he was sure he’d have bruises.

After what felt like forever, Minho bottomed out, hips pressed to Jisung’s ass; Jisung could hear Minho struggling to breathe normally - he could relate. A moment later, he leaned down, draping himself over Jisung’s back until his chin was on Jisung’s shoulder. “Good, baby?” Jisung nodded, face still hidden in the sheets. That didn’t appear to be enough for Minho, who was still frustratingly _not moving_. “Words, Jisungie. Use them.”

Jisung turned his face so that Minho could hear him. “So good, hyung, you feel _so good_.” Jisung nearly choked on a moan as Minho rolled his hips, agonizingly slow. “Thought you were going to fuck me into the mattress...”

Minho chuckled at that. “And I thought you were going to be good, but someone’s a little brat when they don’t get their way.” Minho slid his hands down Jisung’s back, rolling his hips again. “Do you want hyung to _punish_ you, Hannie?” Jisung bit back a gasp at that, but he couldn’t hide his body’s reaction, clenching around Minho at the thought. Minho laughed again, hands squeezing Jisung’s ass before returning to their previous position on his hips.

“I can be good, hyung, _please_ -”

Jisung’s sentence was cut off with a cry when Minho pulled out and then slammed back into him. The angle was incredible, Jisung fisting his hands in the sheets to have something to hold onto as Minho set a punishing pace. Jisung let himself relax as Minho _literally_ fucked him into the mattress, blissed out, beyond content to let Minho use his body for his own pleasure, Jisung gasping beneath him.

Eventually Minho tugged at Jisung’s hips to adjust the angle of his thrusts, and suddenly he was brushing Jisung’s prostate with every stroke. Jisung could feel himself hurtling towards the edge, helpless to resist.

Minho could feel it too, in the way Jisung was tightening around him, could hear it in the pitch of the other man’s moans. He slowed down, thrusting shallowly for a moment before he pulled out. Jisung whined at the loss, but then Minho was pressed against Jisung’s back again, his mouth brushing Jisung’s ear as he spoke.

“I want to watch you fall apart, Jisungie…”

And then Minho was flipping him over, reaching to the head of the bed for a pillow to tuck under Jisung’s hips before he lined himself back up, sliding back into Jisung’s body like it was where he was meant to be. Jisung was staring up at him, mouth open, face flushed, pupils so dilated his eyes were pitch-black.

Minho resumed his previous pace as Jisung cried out, wrapping his legs around the other man so he could pull him closer, deeper. They were both close, Minho’s hips stuttering, and then he wrapped his hand around Jisung’s cock, slippery with precum. “Come on, baby -” his voice was rough, edged with desperation. “Come for hyung.” Jisung obeyed, body seizing up as he came, Minho’s name on his lips. Minho followed him, Jisung’s body pulling him over the edge.

Minho collapsed onto Jisung’s chest before rolling them both onto their sides, where they lay panting for several long minutes. Eventually Minho untangled their limbs, pulling out of Jisung as the other man whimpered. Climbing off of the bed, he disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments. Jisung could hear the shower starting, and then Minho was back, lifting Jisung off of the bed easily to carry him into the bathroom, depositing him on the narrow bench that ran along the back wall of Minho’s sizable shower.

Jisung let Minho bathe him, hands suddenly gentle - the contrast to his demeanor in bed had Jisung’s head spinning. Once Jisung regained the use of his legs, he stood to take Minho’s place under the spray of the showerhead, taking his turn to clean Minho up. One of the best parts of showering somewhere that wasn’t the company-owned dorm was unlimited hot water, and they took advantage of it, staying wrapped up in each other for much longer than was necessary.

Jisung loved the way Minho felt, their bodies pressed together, slippery with soap that smelled like _Minho_. If he begged Minho to fuck him again, pressed against the glass of the shower stall, no one needed to know (besides Minho, who complied happily).

Once they dried off, Minho retrieved Jisung’s clothes, warm from the dryer. They got dressed in silence - Minho smiling to himself, Jisung too afraid to speak, terrified that he’d say something he couldn’t take back, his feelings for Minho clawing at the inside of his chest. He let Minho see him to the front door, let Minho kiss him on the forehead before he left. He requested a rideshare from the lobby of Minho’s building, climbing numbly in after it arrived, staring blankly out the window as the car carried him back to the dorm, back to reality.

When Jisung made it home, his roommates were (mercifully) missing. Jisung walked blindly to his room, locking the door behind him, stripping off and stumbling into bed to stare blankly at the ceiling, mind racing a mile a minute.

He was fucked, and not just literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we earned that E rating, fellas.
> 
> ETA: also I'm on twitter @bulletfic if anyone wants to see me cry about minsung too frequently for my own good.


	6. Chapter 6

Jisung spent the rest of his day zoned out in bed, until the sound of his roommates banging around in the kitchen was enough to have him dragging himself out of bed. He tugged on clean clothes, pasting what he hoped was a normal-enough smile on his face before he stepped out of his room.

Chan had his back to the living room, stirring a pot of something on the stove, but Changbin was on his laptop at the table and noticed Jisung immediately. “He lives!”

Jisung rolled his eyes, pulling out a chair to join Changbin at the table. “Barely.”

Changbin laughed, reaching across the table to ruffle Jisung’s hair. “And only thanks to Minho, he practically had to carry you out of the club. Not that we were much better, actually. It’s probably a good thing we didn’t have to try to get you home ourselves.”

Chan smiled at the pair over his shoulder. “Dinner will be ready soon, I hope bolognese’s okay?” Jisung nodded in response, too exhausted to talk more than was necessary. He crossed his arms on the tabletop and rested his head on them, trying and failing to shut his brain off as he listened to the sounds of Chan cooking & Changbin tapping away at his keyboard.

Dinner was a subdued affair - Jisung was usually the loudest of the three, and Changbin tended to feed off of Jisung’s energy, so they ate in near silence. His roommates seemed to think that Jisung was still hungover, and he let them believe it; it was an easy cover for his mood.

Changbin took dish duty as usual, leaving Jisung at the table with Chan. Before Jisung could make an escape back to his room, Chan stopped him, tugging Jisung back into his chair by the back of his shirt.

“You alright, Han-ah?” Their leader was clearly concerned, the look in his eyes kind but searching, like he knew there was something Jisung wasn’t telling them. Jisung wanted to tell the whole story to Chan, his feelings pressing against his ribcage, thoughts threatening to spill out of his mouth - he knew telling someone, especially someone he trusted like Chan, would make him feel better, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Everything was too raw, too tangled, and Jisung needed to sort his own feelings out before he said something he would regret, so instead, he nodded.

“Yep, I’m fine, just hungover. I probably just need like sixteen more hours of sleep before I feel like myself again.” Chan didn’t look like he fully believed what he was hearing, but he smiled at Jisung anyway.

“Well, we have tomorrow off, so you can sleep in. Just let me know if you need something, yeah?” Jisung nodded again, offering Chan a smile that probably didn’t reach his eyes before he disappeared, shutting himself back in his room, dropping back onto his bed face first.

Alone again, Jisung let his thoughts run wild for a while - when he finally willed himself to calm down and rolled himself in a more comfortable position, it was fully dark outside. Reaching out to his bedside table, Jisung grabbed his phone, hoping a youtube binge might help him relax and pick through his thoughts a little bit easier.

There was a notification on his screen; a missed text from Minho. Dread crept up Jisung’s throat, heart thudding in his chest. If it was a flirty message, or even worse, a sweet one, Jisung might actually lose it.

Minho knew him better than that, though. The text just said _‘Dori!’_ \- attached was an image file of a little striped grey cat with white patches and white socks, curled up in what appeared to be a bathroom sink. She was adorable, and Jisung let Minho know by responding with approximately fifteen different emojis and a keyboard smash.

Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe things could be normal between them - could be _good_. Just because they had had mind-blowing sex didn’t mean their friendship had to change. Jisung didn’t have _feelings_ for Minho, his brain was just overwhelmed at how close they had gotten so quickly and how easily Minho had been able to read him in bed, had given Jisung exactly what he needed. He’d been lusting after Minho for weeks, of course he’d gotten emotional when they finally hooked up.

Right. That’s all it was. They could do this thing, no-strings-attached, and still be friends. It would be fine, Jisung assured himself. It was fine.

The next week was a flurry of preparation for promotions as their album launch loomed close; Jisung didn’t see Minho when he was rushing around the company building, but they texted constantly, to the point where Changbin had tried to steal Jisung’s phone just to see what he was doing. Jisung had wrestled him to the floor to keep the phone out of his hands, thankful for his lockscreen and for Chan gruffly pulling them apart before Changbin could see anything.

The texts weren’t exactly incriminating, but for some reason Jisung was still hesitant to let the others know how close he and Minho were, and several hundred texts back and forth about literally nothing over the course of a few days seemed like a strong indicator that they were _very_ close.

Jisung let their routine of minimal sleep, carefully controlled diets, and never-ending photoshoots wipe his mind clean of anxiety about any feelings he thought he had for Minho. By the end of the week, he was certain everything was going to be fine, and he had convinced himself that maybe now was the _best_ time to entertain the idea of a friends-with-benefits situation. He was busy, Minho was busy, they both had stressful lives; they got on like a house on fire and their chemistry in the bedroom was really, _really_ good. Hooking up was the perfect way for them both to let off some steam, and keeping things commitment free meant that there wouldn’t be any issues. It was foolproof, really.

Eventually, though, Jisung hit a snag in his plan - once he’d talked himself into just how great of an idea this all was, he couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it. Any time he wasn’t occupied with work, his mind drifted to Minho lifting Jisung with absolutely no effort, or hovering over him in bed, or pressing him against the wall of his shower. Soon enough his mind was creating brand new scenarios involving the pair in a wide variety of compromising positions, and it took all of Jisung’s remaining brain cells to keep himself together and focus.

He tried to keep his texts to Minho normal - goofy, rather than flirty. He wanted to be chill about this whole thing, to keep from blurring the lines between their friendship and their...benefits, no matter how desperate he was to get Minho into bed again as soon as possible.

After another grueling week of work, Jisung found himself almost nodding off at the dinner table while Chan and Changbin discussed their upcoming stages, the list of appearances too long for Jisung to fully absorb. He perked up, however, when Chan mentioned that they had a full day off coming up before their stages started. Suddenly their schedule was of utmost importance, and Jisung unlocked his phone to open his calendar. Chan managed a shared calendar for the group, which Jisung almost never looked at - he could see the tantalizingly empty square just three days away, and a half empty square after it; it looked like they only had some video content to record in the afternoon, their managers taking it easy on them the day before their official comeback date.

It took all of his self control to not text Minho immediately to ask what he was doing in three days’ time. _Chill_ , he reminded himself. _Be chill._

He made it two days, actually impressing himself, responding to Minho’s texts normally, bantering about whatever silly topics they were bouncing between, before he finally broke down while they were taking a lunch break between dance practice and a wardrobe fitting with their stylist noonas.

> _Hyung!!_
> 
> Jisungie!!
> 
> _What are you doing tomorrow?_
> 
> Mm  
> I have the day off  
> I was going to order a bunch of junk food and watch movies
> 
> _Can I come over?  
> _ _We have a free day and I’m sick of my members._
> 
> You’re sick of your members, or you miss me? 😘

Jisung flushed - how did Minho manage to fluster him even through a text message?

> _I definitely don’t miss you now!_
> 
> So you don’t want to come over?
> 
> _Hyung_ 🥺🥺🥺
> 
> Big baby 🙄  
> Of course you can come over  
> I’ll order the chicken you like

Their conversation went back off the rails after that, devolving into a fight about what takeout food was best. Jisung bit back a grin, tucking his phone away before Changbin could interrogate him again or Chan could badger him for not eating his salad.

Jisung willed himself to focus for the rest of the day, through their fitting, through a meeting with their manager and producers that seemed to drag on for hours, through his signature 3 minute shower (the other two waiting for their turns behind him), through a dinner of convenience store ramen shared with Chan on the couch while Felix thoroughly bested Changbin in whatever video game they were playing, through laundry duty that seemed to last forever (it was his turn and they were all running out of clean clothes...again). When he finally collapsed into bed, his brain was all but overtaken with thoughts of Minho, and he eventually had to put on his favorite ASMR playlist to quiet his thoughts, zoning out until his eyelids finally began to drift shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jisung, you fool.
> 
> Anyway find me on twitter to scream about minsung @bulletfic <3


	7. Chapter 7

Jisung made it approximately seven minutes into whatever movie Minho had started (he knew he had agreed to whatever it was, but his ability to concentrate was truly shot) before he couldn’t take it anymore. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t just throw himself at the other man like he was desperate, but he hadn’t seen Minho in too long and he looked so perfect in his oversized cardigan; Jisung just couldn’t control himself.

Minho didn’t acknowledge the fact that Jisung had swung a leg over his lap and was now straddling him beyond a little huffing noise as Jisung settled his weight onto Minho more evenly. The way he didn’t take his eyes off of the screen - the way he didn’t seem affected by Jisung’s presence at all - was beyond frustrating. Jisung knew it was an act, but it didn’t matter. He wanted Minho to feel just as desperate as he did, to know that Minho wanted him just as badly.

Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck; Minho looked past him, still ostensibly focused on the television.

Jisung leaned in slowly, lips brushing over Minho’s jaw softly, before traveling up to nip at his earlobe, tugging it between his teeth. When he didn’t get a discernible reaction, he pulled back to stare at Minho. His hand wound into Minho’s hair, tugging to try to get him to make eye contact. Minho was still looking at the screen, but a smile was pulling at the corner of his lips even as he tried to maintain indifference.

“Hyung.”

Minho just hummed in response; fairly standard behavior for him, but it only served to make Jisung needier, more whiny.

“Hyung, _please_.” Jisung wriggled in his lap, tugging at Minho’s hair again until the other man finally reacted, hands finding Jisung’s hips to hold him still. When Minho looked at him, eyes dark, it was enough to have Jisung biting back a whimper.

“You’re cute when you’re needy, baby.” Arousal swept through Jisung at Minho’s tone, his face heating. “What do you want, Jisungie? Did you come over because you want something from hyung?” Jisung nodded mutely, cheeks burning, already half hard in his ripped jeans. “And what would that be?”

Jisung wanted Minho to bend him over the closest available surface and absolutely _ruin_ him, but he didn’t say that. “I want whatever _hyung_ wants” was what came out of his mouth instead, even though he wasn’t sure if he was going to regret it.

There was something about the look in Minho’s eyes that Jisung liked a little bit _too_ much, setting his pulse racing as Minho’s lips curled into a smirk.

“What if hyung just wants to watch you touch yourself, hmm?” His hands slipped up off of Jisungs hips, sliding under the oversized tee shirt he was wearing, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. Jisung couldn’t respond, flushed and breathless in Minho’s lap. “Go on, baby. You wanted to interrupt the movie, make it worth it for me.”

Jisung swallowed thickly, pulling his arms back from around Minho’s neck to drop his hands to his own thighs, running his nails over the denim of his jeans absentmindedly. Minho squeezed his waist once and then slid his hands down over Jisung’s hips to meet at his tailbone, fingers laced together to help keep Jisung steady in his lap.

Like a man compelled, Jisung flattened his hands against his thighs, sliding them upwards slowly, hissing quietly as he dragged his fingers over himself before undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. It felt like time had slowed to crawl as he watched Minho watch him, eyes trained on Jisung’s hands as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his black briefs, pushing them down just far enough to pull out his length, wrapping a hand around himself and biting back a moan. He was fully hard now; the way Minho was watching him was enough to have him throbbing, copious precum easing the slide of his hand.

Jisung was desperate - he had been for days - and even this was enough to have him panting and writhing in Minho’s lap. He could feel Minho growing hard underneath him, the feeling spurring him on. He thumbed over the head of his cock, twisting his hand as he slid it back down, movements slow and deliberate for Minho, no matter that he wanted to speed up, his body begging for release. Pleasing Minho was more important.

Jisung couldn’t pull his gaze off of Minho’s face, struck at the sweep of his eyelashes over his flushed cheeks as he watched Jisung’s movements, at the way his breathing had grown rapid to match Jisung’s, at the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. Minho looked back up suddenly, Jisung gasping when their eyes met.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, baby.” Minho’s voice was rough, and Jisung whined, the praise enough to have his hand speeding up involuntarily, strokes becoming sloppy. Minho’s hands were on his ass now, grasp firm as he rolled his hips to press himself up against Jisung, who had to stop and wrap his fingers firmly around the base of his cock, eyes still locked on Minho’s. “Don’t stop, Hannie,” Minho continued, voice pitched low, “I know you want to come. You get so worked up for hyung, don’t you?” Jisung was helpless, his hand moving again, working himself faster as Minho pushed him towards the edge with his words, eyes trained on Jisung’s face. “My good boy who does whatever hyung says. _Fuck_. Come on, baby, let go.” Utterly powerless to resist, Jisung came, slumping forwards in Minho’s arms, dropping his forehead to Minho’s shoulder as he gasped for air, heart pounding and ears ringing.

He could feel Minho shifting under him, and then he was pulling Jisung’s hand off of his cock to lift it to his mouth; even after what had just happened, Jisung could feel himself blushing anew as Minho licked his hand clean, stirring more arousal in his gut, cock twitching with interest despite the intensity of the orgasm he’d just had.

After a moment, Minho wrapped his arms back around Jisung and stood, lifting him easily and then turning to deposit him on the couch. “I’ll be right back, baby.” Minho moved towards the stairs, turning to look back at Jisung with his foot on the bottom step. “And when I get back, you’ll be naked.” Jisung didn’t have to be told twice, scrambling up on shaky legs to tug his clothes off before dropping back onto the couch.

He didn’t have to wait long before Minho was coming back down the stairs, divested of his cardigan, arms exposed in his tighter-than-normal tee shirt, jeans unbuttoned but still disappointingly _on_. Jisung’s annoyance was swiftly relieved when he realized what Minho was carrying; he put the lube & condoms down on the end table next to the couch as he sat back down, patting his thigh. Jisung complied with the unspoken request happily, settling back into Minho’s lap with a grin that he couldn’t control.

“What are you smiling for, Jisungie?”

Jisung resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that; he wanted to continue to please Minho, and he knew Minho liked it when he behaved, when he said what he was thinking. “I did what hyung wanted.”

“Mhmm.”

“I was good.”

“You were _very_ good, baby.”

“Does that mean you’re going to fuck me now?”

“Have I told you how cute you are when you blush?” Jisung whined in response, pressing his forehead back into Minho’s shoulder. Minho rubbed his hands soothingly over Jisung’s back, voice warm as he continued. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m going to fuck you, if that’s alright.”

Minho calling him _sweetheart_ had Jisung reeling, grinding down into Minho’s lap as he pulled his face away from Minho’s shoulder to respond. “ _Please_.”

Minho’s hand slid down his back, slowly, teasing, the other reaching out to snag the bottle of lube off of the table. Jisung pressed forward, hiding his face in Minho’s neck as he whimpered at the feeling of his fingers, soft at first, but growing steadily more insistent. Minho worked him open languidly, until Jisung was shaking in his lap, cock red and hard against his stomach, a trail of precum smeared in its wake.

When Minho’s fingertips found his prostate, Jisung cried out, biting down on Minho’s shoulder to ground himself, sucking at his skin through his shirt. Minho groaned at that, fingers twisting in a way that had Jisung seeing stars behind his closed eyelids.

Jisung realized he was babbling again, unable to stop himself. “God, hyung, please, fuck - _please_ , ah-”

“Please what, baby?” Minho sounded just as desperate as Jisung felt. He knew the answer to his question, but Jisung knew he just wanted to hear him say it - beg for it. Minho found his prostate again, pressing against it and rubbing in circles, and Jisung _wailed_ , head thrown back.

“Fuck me, Minho, please fuck me, need to feel you _now_.”

Minho’s fingers disappeared, and then he was lifting Jisung off of his lap, just enough to tug his pants down to his thighs. Jisung clung to the back of the couch with both arms, trying to stay out of the way as Minho reached for a condom and put it on, and then his hands were on Jisung’s hips, pulling him down until the head of his cock nudged against Jisung’s hole, until it slipped inside as they both gasped, until Jisung’s ass was flush against his thighs. Minho flexed his hips and Jisung moaned brokenly, hands on Minho’s shoulders, eyes squeezed shut.

Jisung lifted himself up, thighs shaking, and then slid back down, slowly enough that Minho growled. He did it again, pulling up slowly, hips twisting, and then sliding back down, unable to focus on anything that wasn’t how blissfully full of Minho he was.

As Jisung inched upward again, Minho’s fingers tightened on his hips, and then he pulled Jisung down _hard_ , snapping his hips up to meet him as Jisung keened, and then he was fucking up into him hard and fast. Jisung did his best to meet his thrusts, legs burning, before he finally gave up and relaxed, letting Minho take over fully.

Minho was very athletic, and impressively strong, but Jisung could feel it when Minho’s body eventually started to protest, thrusts slowing, his hair clinging to the sides of his face with sweat. Between gasps and strung together expletives, Jisung attempted to suggest they change positions, but Minho was a step ahead of him - before he could even get the words out, Minho was turning, swinging them both around and lowering Jisung onto the couch on his back, Minho hovering over him.

The change in angle had Jisung crying out, hands tangling in Minho’s hair to tug him down, pressing their foreheads together as Minho sped back up. One of Minho’s hands wrapped around Jisung’s cock; overwhelmed at the added stimulation, Jisung squeezed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to block out the sensations of Minho over him, inside him, all around him.

“Hannie-” Minho’s hips stuttered, his hand working Jisung faster. “Eyes, open your eyes baby.”

Jisung did, pupils blown wide with pleasure, and then Minho was coming, hips continuing to move as he pushed Jisung over the edge with a twist of his wrist.

Minho lowered himself onto Jisung’s chest carefully, heart pounding, face pressed into Jisung’s neck. They lay tangled together for longer than either of them probably wanted to admit, until Minho licked a stripe up the side of Jisung’s neck, laughing at Jisung’s disgusted face when Minho hummed _‘mmm, salty_ ’ under his breath.

After another shared shower - god, Jisung could get used to Minho’s shower - Minho lent him another pair of sweats and a hoodie that was far too big for him (“ _What, you want to put jeans back on to watch movies and eat junk??_ ”) and they settled back onto the couch. Instead of restarting the movie he’d originally chosen, Minho let Jisung pick, unsurprised when Howl’s Moving Castle started as Minho worked on ordering their lunch.

Jisung let himself relax into Minho’s side as his favorite movie played, quieting the little voice in his head that protested that he needed to draw the line at cuddling - another little voice reminded Jisung that he cuddled with literally everyone all the time, so this was fine. Humming along to the soundtrack just to see Minho smiling fondly was fine. Feeding each other little bites of their cheat day deep fried delivery lunch was fine. Falling asleep on Minho’s couch wrapped in Minho’s clothes and Minho’s arms was _totally fine_.

Waking up in Minho’s bed the second time was far less disorienting than it had been the first time by far, though that was probably to be expected since Jisung wasn’t hungover and Minho was dozing next to him, and he faintly remembered the rocking motion of being carried up the stairs after the movie’s credits had finished rolling.

Jisung found himself staring at Minho where he was curled up against him, features relaxed in his sleep. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to do something stupid, an urge he often felt around Minho - he wanted to run his fingers over the planes of Minho’s face, the bridge of his sharp nose, his plush lower lip. He wanted to comb his fingers through Minho’s hair, wanted to watch Minho shiver awake as Jisung ran his nails lightly over his scalp. The need to kiss the other man hit him abruptly, a physical ache in his body that Jisung struggled against as Minho continued to sleep, unaware.

Turning away from Minho, Jisung pressed his back against the mattress, legs twisting in the sheets. Focusing on his breathing and nothing else, he willed away the intrusive thoughts. He calmed down quickly, evidence enough to himself that everything was fine - was going to be fine - and that it was just his hormones playing tricks on him.

By the time Minho slowly blinked into wakefulness beside him, Jisung had relaxed again. He certainly didn’t feel anything special as he watched Minho’s eyes open or saw the way Minho’s face broke into a grin when his eyes met Jisung’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: writes 1500 words of pure filth  
> also me: aw heck now what do i do? how do you end a chapter?
> 
> find me on twitter if you want: @bulletfic


	8. Chapter 8

After a trip to the convenience store next to Minho’s apartment building, they picked another movie - a trashy horror movie they had both been wanting to watch - and ate too much ice cream, Minho laughing as he reached out to swipe a smear of strawberry off of Jisung’s lip.

The normalcy of their afternoon was enough to assure Jisung that everything was alright, and when he left Minho’s apartment, it was without the pit of dread in his stomach that he had felt the previous time. He wasn’t distressed at the thought of getting a text from Minho, and he smiled as their typical messaging banter resumed almost as soon as he climbed into his rideshare.

Jisung felt pleasantly relaxed; obviously, his plan to frame this arrangement as stress relief was working, he thought smugly to himself. He was brilliant, actually.

His good mood carried him up the narrow stairs to the dorm, where he found both Chan and Changbin in the living room. Chan didn’t look up from his laptop, but Changbin lifted his head off of the couch to peer at Jisung as he slipped through the front door.

“Where were you all day?” Changbin’s voice was rough around the edges, most likely from taking a midday nap on their couch. “Whose hoodie is that?” Jisung was sure Changbin was just curious, but he suddenly felt like he was being interrogated, and he swore at himself internally for forgetting that he basically looked like a walk of shame showing up wrapped in Minho’s clothes. Still, not answering would be more suspicious.

“Ah, I was hanging out with Minho-hyung and his apartment actually has functional air conditioning, so.” Jisung punctuated his sentence with a shrug, pleased with how casual he sounded. Changbin dropped his head back onto the cushions and rolled over so that he was facing the back of the couch.

“Wake me up when you guys want dinner,” he mumbled, voice muffled by pillows.

Jisung wasn’t sure what reaction he had been expecting, but this felt like the best case scenario. He kicked his boots off and shuffled off to his room, poking a finger affectionately into Chan’s shoulder as he passed him on the way.

He surprised himself by sitting down at his desk and actually finishing the lyrics he’d been struggling with all week before throwing himself fully into the production work he needed to get done on a track Chan had given him to play with. Without realizing it, the room slipped slowly into darkness as the sun set, and before he knew it, Chan was pushing the door open and nudging the back of Jisung’s chair with his foot to get his attention. Jisung tugged his earphones out, swiveling his desk chair around.

“It’s almost nine, Sung. Come eat something.”

Jisung stood, stretching his arms over his head with a groan before following Chan to the kitchen where Changbin was already working his way through a serving of kimchi jjigae. Jinsung sat down next to him as Chan rifled through the fridge for something, picking up chopsticks and reaching out to snag a piece of tofu out of Changbin’s bowl. Changbin just rolled his eyes and angled himself over the table to keep Jisung’s chopsticks away as Jisung laughed.

After dinner, Jisung returned to his room to lose himself in work again, pleasantly full and feeling lighter than he had in awhile. Time usually passed oddly when Jisung was working, and this evening was no exception. He shook himself out of a daze, realizing he’d been zoning out, practically staring through his computer’s screen; when he looked at the clock, it was nearing two.

Saving his work, Jisung snapped his laptop shut and dragged himself to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He was settling into bed when he blearily realized that he was still wearing Minho’s clothes, but it didn’t make him anxious; instead, the idea filled him with something warm and soft that he didn’t have a name for, lulling him easily into sleep, his normally overactive mind quieted for once.

Sleeping in was a luxury that they didn’t often have, especially during the lead-up to a comeback; Jisung found himself waking up before his alarm went off, blinking at how bright his room was, sunlight streaming through his window. Chan was already awake, chatting on the phone animatedly with someone once Jisung made it to the kitchen to scavenge some breakfast. Before he could peel his orange, Chan was gesturing silently at him, a complicated series of charades that Jisung took to mean _‘go wake up Changbin_.’

Once his task was complete, Jisung returned to the kitchen, Changbin grumbling behind him. They ate whatever they could find - they _really_ needed to go grocery shopping - Chan ending one call and starting another in the meantime. Once he finished the second call, he joined them at the table to give them the rundown of the content they were shooting once they got to the company building, a variety of interviews for international publications in addition to some content for their own social media accounts once the interviews were done.

Jisung expected the afternoon to be smooth; for all intents and purposes, it should have been a cakewalk - barely a half day, everyone well-rested, no dance practice or running lyrics for hours on hours. There was no traffic on the way in, no one disliked the outfits their stylists chose, all of the interviewers were polite and seemed to have done their research - outwardly, everything looked great.

For some reason, though, all three members of the group were on edge. Maybe it was the fact that they were hurtling towards album launch day at a breakneck pace that was knocking them off-balance, but any time the cameras were off, Jisung and Changbin were practically at each other’s throats, snapping about the tiniest perceived flaws in answers they’d given. By the time they’d finished their scheduled interviews, Chan was furious, though he hid it well.

Jisung was familiar with the look in Chan’s eyes, and he practically jumped off of his stool when their last interview was done, desperate to get out from under the dark cloud that seemed to be hovering over them.

“I don’t know what is going on today -” Chan started, voice colored with disappointment as Changbin crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed. Jisung didn’t wait to hear what else he had to say, making for the door of the conference room that was acting as their set for the day. “Jisung!” When he didn’t stop, Chan followed him, sticking his head out the door to yell at his back that he needed to be back in twenty minutes with a better attitude.

Jisung scoffed, power-walking to the elevator bank. He jabbed the ‘down’ button with way too much force, pulling his hand back with a hiss and tapping his foot anxiously as he waited. Once an elevator arrived, he was glad to find it empty, and he pressed the button for the floor of practice rooms less forcefully, not wanting to relive the awkward moment of hurting his finger like a child just because he was frustrated.

What Jisung needed was a distraction, and he had a very specific one in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's so short, I was struggling to find a good stopping point.  
> You're all killing me with your comments and kudos, I'm so thankful that so many of you are enjoying this hot mess 🖤🖤
> 
> Find me on twitter @bulletfic!


	9. Chapter 9

Jisung knew that Minho was in the building, working on choreography for yet another group; he’d told Jisung as much that morning during their daily text-marathon. Jisung wasn’t entirely sure which room Minho would be in, or if he would even still be working - hopefully he wasn’t taking a meal break.

Hurrying past the larger, more popular practice rooms closest to the elevators, Jisung made his way to the end of the hall, counting on his knowledge of Minho to lead him to the right place. It seemed that luck was on his side for this one moment; pushing open the door of the very last room at the end of the hall, he found Minho alone, an unfamiliar song blasting through the speakers as he marked out the steps of the dance. Jisung pressed the door closed behind him and turned the lock as Minho met his eyes in the mirror, one eyebrow raising as he froze in the middle of a lunge.

Minho was just sweaty enough to somehow be even _more_ attractive to Jisung, skin glowing, hair flopping over a sweatband, his sleeveless shirt clinging to his chest. Jisung met him at the sound system, pulse racing as he watched Minho turn the song off, not even giving him the chance to ask why Jisung was there before he crowded into Minho’s space, pressing him back against the wall.

Jisung grabbed at Minho’s hips, squeezing roughly, burying his face in the side of Minho’s neck before he started to suck at his skin. Minho gasped quietly in response, and then his hands were threading through Jisung’s hair to tug him gently back.

“Are you - is everything alright, Hannie?”

Jisung ran his tongue over his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he met Minho’s eyes. “Just let me have this. _Please_ , hyung.” Minho studied his face for a moment, though what he was looking for, Jisung couldn’t be sure. Impatient, Jisung dug his fingers into Minho’s hips, shifting against him until Minho nodded, seeming to understand what Jisung needed, just like he always did.

They didn’t have a lot of time, but Jisung was fine with that. Not caring to waste even a minute, he dropped to his knees, hands running over Minho’s abs roughly, pushing his shirt up to press his fingertips into his skin. He leaned up to nip at Minho’s stomach, more harsh than he would normally be, blunt fingernails scratching over Minho’s sides.

Jisung looked up to see Minho watching him intently, mouth open, face far more flushed than it had been from his dancing, hands balled into fists at his sides. The look in his eye had Jisung’s blood boiling, and Jisung couldn’t wait any longer, rushing to tug Minho’s pants down to his thighs, wrapping a hand around him as his lips found Minho’s leg, teeth scraping over the muscles, tongue darting out to taste Minho’s sweat.

While he worked Minho to full hardness, Jisung sucked at the junction of his thigh - he wanted to mark Minho up, leaving him covered in little bruises and bites, but now wasn’t the time, so one would have to do. Minho was panting above him now, Jisung relishing the sound of it for a moment before he wrapped his lips around Minho’s cock and sank down.

Minho’s hands wove through Jisung’s hair, Jisung humming happily in response. He let his mind go blank, nothing existing outside of the feeling of Minho’s cock heavy on his tongue. What he really wanted was to let go entirely, to let Minho use him, fuck his throat until he was crying, until his voice was wrecked, but he didn’t have that luxury right now, so instead he tuned everything else out to focus on Minho’s pleasure.

Keeping one hand on Minho’s hip, nails pressing crescent moons into his skin, Jisung wrapped the other around the base of Minho’s cock to move in conjunction with his mouth, sliding up and down slowly at first, increasing in speed as Minho’s breath quickened above him. Jisung pulled back for a moment, looking up through his lashes, reveling in the dark look in Minho’s eyes as Jisung let his mouth open, tongue lolling out obscenely before he lapped at the head of his cock, tongue flicking at the underside.

Jisung continued to focus on the tip of Minho’s cock for a moment, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking as he twisted his hand around the shaft, slippery with spit and precum. He was painfully hard, and he couldn’t help pulling his other hand off of Minho’s hip to unbutton his jeans, slipping his hand inside to grasp himself roughly.

He leaned forward again, sinking all the way down, stroking himself in time with the movements of his mouth on Minho, thrilling in the way Minho threw his head back against the wall when he moaned around his cock.

Minho met his eyes again, hands tight in Jisung’s hair, pulling just enough to send a sharp spike of arousal through him. His hands tightened further and Jisung stilled, raising an eyebrow even as his tongue continued to sweep over the shaft of Minho’s cock.

“Are you touching yourself, baby?” The answer was obvious, Jisung’s hand still moving inside of his jeans, but he nodded around Minho. “Hands off, Jisungie.” Jisung whined, pulling his hand out of his jeans and dropping it to his own thigh, pleased when he was rewarded with a murmur of _‘good boy’_ as he started to bob his head again.

Jisung redoubled his efforts, and soon enough Minho was gasping, thighs shaking as he came down Jisung’s throat. Jisung swallowed, pulling off of Minho and dropping backwards onto his ass, knees aching from the hardwood floor. Minho slid down the wall to meet him, legs tangling with Jisung’s. They stared at each other silently as Minho’s breathing slowed, and then he pressed forward, caging Jisung against the floor and slipping down his body. His hands slid under Jisung’s shirt, pinching his nipples, scratching over his abs, tugging his pants down so that Minho could mouth at his cock through his boxer briefs as Jisung writhed.

Minho could read him like a book - he always knew what Jisung needed, and what Jisung needed was hard and fast, lips and teeth and tongue working at a frenzied pace to drag him over the edge, one hand wrapped in Minho’s hair, the other jammed into his own mouth like a replay of the night they’d met as Jisung struggled to stay quiet, biting down on the flesh of his palm hard as he came.

Minho knew his body, and it felt like he also knew his mind, letting Jisung stare blankly at the ceiling, thoughts fuzzy, as Minho redressed them both and combed his fingers through Jisung’s hair, attempting to shape it back into the style he’d been given earlier. Minho didn’t ask him any questions as he offered Jisung his hands, pulling him up off of the floor; he didn’t ask any questions when he handed over his water bottle or when Jisung drained the entirety of it one go; he didn’t ask any questions when Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho and pushed his face into Minho’s chest, breathing still shaky. He didn’t ask any questions when Jisung pressed a kiss to his check and slipped out the door without looking back.

Jisung was especially grateful for the last one as he found the nearest bathroom to scowl at himself in the mirror.

The noonas were going to be so mad at him.

Minho had gotten his hair mostly under control, and he spent a few minutes dabbing carefully at his face with paper towels. They would have to touch up his eyeliner, though to be fair that wasn’t anything new.

Resigned to his fate, he took an elevator back to the floor they were set up on, hoping he’d find the stylists before Chan found him. His luck held out, and he let the hair and makeup team whisk him into a chair to be cleaned up, not even minding their raised eyebrows or the quiet talking-to he got about being more careful to not wrinkle his shirts in the future. He let them work on him, eyes drifting shut as his mind remained blessedly fuzzy, the adrenaline and dopamine working together to keep his anxieties at bay.

He was back in the conference room with two minutes to spare. Changbin eyed him warily, but Chan seemed to have calmed down, eyes crinkling as he smiled at Jisung.

“Are we good?”

Jisung smiled back as he nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.”

The rest of the evening went much more smoothly, though Jisung was starving by the time they wrapped up, half lost in a daydream about tteokbokki even though he was certain Chan wouldn’t let them eat anything with carbs or salt the night before d-day.

Jisung let his brain slip back out of performer mode, zoning out as Chan and their team - managers and stylists and producers who appeared out of the woodwork - scurried around, double checking details for their first comeback stage before rounding on Changbin and Jisung to herd them into a waiting van to head home. Dinner was grilled chicken breasts and salad, surprising no one, and Chan made them both drink an extra glass of water before sending them to bed.

They shuffled down the hallway silently, side by side. Before he could disappear into his room, though, Jisung was surprised to find himself pulling Changbin into a hug.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” he mumbled into Changbin’s shoulder. “I’m just anxious about tomorrow.”

Changbin squeezed him before pulling out of the hug to ruffle Jisung’s hair. “I know, Sungie, it’s fine. We’re all stressed, we just need to be better at managing it.” Jisung batted his hand away with an eyeroll, reaching up to smooth his hair back out. “Get some rest, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am ~struggling~ so i'm sorry this was a little short! i really appreciate all of the kudos, comments, and subscriptions more than y'all know. <3
> 
> find me on twitter @bulletfic!


	10. Chapter 10

Stress became a second skin for Jisung over the next few weeks; their new single and music video being officially released was only the beginning of the insanity, days spent waking up before sunrise for stage rehearsals only to have to spend hours waiting for their turn to actually perform, napping on hard floors while trying not to wrinkle their costume pieces, watching as groups with larger fanbases pulled the top spot each day, and then going home to nitpick their performance before collapsing into bed only to repeat it all over again and again.

Seeking Minho out became a habit; for a distraction, for comfort, to quiet his anxieties if only for a few moments before he had to scramble back to the grind. Minho didn’t seek Jisung out in the same way, but he didn’t need to. He always made himself available for Jisung, always found a way to mention his schedule through their texts so Jisung would know when and where to find him, and Jisung was embarrassingly grateful for that. He didn’t often get the chance to sneak away, but when he did, Minho was there to listen to him talk if he wanted to, or to fuck him over the nearest available surface if not; to make sure he was eating when he couldn’t keep track for himself, to text him adorable pictures of his cats when he couldn’t be wherever Jisung was. He knew when to tease him and when to make him beg and when to hold him quietly for just a few moments.

They finally took first place during the third week of promotions, and though they had done it before for other songs, Jisung had never quite gotten used to the feeling, and he had to fight back tears during their encore, hoping that Minho was watching for reasons he didn’t want to study too closely. They celebrated by going live for a question & answer session with their fans while they ate dinner in the company building before Chan hurried them back to the dorm; they had another stage the next day, after all.

Promotions finally started to slow down after their win, trickling off until they finally wrapped up after six brutal weeks of work. Jisung wanted to collapse into bed and sleep forever, a sentiment he expressed out loud to Minho as he dropped onto his couch on his first real day off in weeks, having been invited over for drama-binging and vague dinner plans.

“You didn’t have to come over, you know,” Minho said, tucking himself onto the couch next to Jisung.

“I know, hyung.” Jisung shrugged, watching Dori chase a toy across the floor. “I missed you.” The admission felt a little bit like pressing against a bruise, a little bit _too_ real to be comfortable, but when he looked up, Minho was smiling at him, and Jisung couldn’t help but smile back. Minho reached out, hooking a finger into the ripped knee of Jisung’s jeans.

“I missed you too, Hannie.” His voice was warm, his fingertip stroking softly over the skin of Jisung’s knee. Jisung leaned against him, the familiarity of Minho’s presence enough to relax him as Minho grabbed the remote to start the show. He wasn’t sure when he started nodding off, but at some point Minho paused the show to ask if he wanted to take a nap instead, and all he could do was nod sleepily, blinking against the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows.

Minho slipped out from under him and stood up, stretching his arms above his head before turning the tv off. When he turned around, Jisung was pouting, arms reaching out for Minho, who rolled his eyes but leaned down to pick him up anyway, voice affectionate as he mumbled _‘big baby’_ and carried Jisung up the stairs. His bedroom was wonderfully dark and cool, all of the blackout curtains pulled closed, and Jisung sighed happily as Minho set him down on the bed, curling up on top of the covers and promptly passing out.

He woke up to gentle hands running over his back and opened his eyes to find himself nestled against Minho, his head tucked under Minho’s chin. He pulled away slightly, yawning, before angling himself to press his nose into the warmth of Minho’s neck. “What time is it?” His voice was raspy from sleep, muffled against the neck of Minho’s shirt.

“It’s dinner time, if you’re hungry.”

“Yes, please.” He slowly untangled himself from Minho, stretching out on the bed as Minho sat up. “What are we having?”

“Do you want to go out?”

Jisung hummed absently as he considered it. “I think I’d rather be lazy and stay in.”

Minho’s phone had been charging on the nightstand, and he picked it up to open their favorite delivery app before passing it to Jisung, who flopped back into the pillows, scrolling through nearby restaurant options. “Get whatever you want, my treat.” Minho disappeared out the door and down the stairs, probably to feed the cats; Jisung could hear them meowing and Minho cooing right back at them.

Once Jisung was satisfied with their dinner order, he rolled off of the bed and went downstairs in search of Minho. He found him in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water, the light from the open fridge highlighting the curve of his jaw and the movement of his throat as he swallowed. Jisung could only stare helplessly, suddenly struck with the realization that he and Minho were finally alone together without any pressing time constraints or the need to be quiet for the first time in weeks, in Minho’s apartment, with Minho’s _bed_. Now that he wasn’t tired anymore, Jisung couldn’t focus on anything besides touching Minho as soon as humanly possible.

Setting Minho’s phone down on the island, Jisung moved to shut the fridge and stand behind Minho, sliding his hand around his waist and pressing close, nose nudging at the back of his neck. Minho set the glass down on the counter as Jisung hummed against his skin, fingers toying with the hem of Minho’s shirt. “Is dinner on the way?”

Jisung humming again was the only response, his fingertips dipping under Minho’s shirt to ghost across his skin.

“How long will it take to get here?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Jisung wriggled restlessly against Minho’s back until Minho turned in his arms, eyes dark when they met Jisung’s.

“That’s too bad.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow in response, his hands coming to rest on Minho’s lower back.

“Fifteen minutes isn’t nearly enough time for what I’d like to do to you.” Minho’s words had Jisung’s pulse speeding up, toes curling on the cool tile floor of the kitchen.

Jisung had to swallow thickly before he could respond. “What do you want to do to me, hyung?”

Minho placed his hands on Jisung’s hips slowly, before turning them both so that he could back Jisung up against the refrigerator. “Well, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, so I thought I might help you _relax_.” Minho studied Jisung’s face, the way his pupils dilated, the fluttering of his pulse as Minho’s fingers tightened on his hips. Jisung tried to push his hips forward, biting back a whine as Minho held him firmly in place with a smirk. “I thought I might start with my mouth,” he continued, smirk growing when Jisung _did_ whine at that, “but I don’t think you should get too worked up now that dinner’s on the way.”

“ _Hyung._ ” Jisung knew he sounded ridiculous, voice pitchy and breathy, but it usually worked to his advantage with Minho.

“ _Jisungie_ ,” Minho replied, voice mocking, sending a thrill down Jisung’s spine.

Jisung pouted, attempting to move his hips again as Minho watched his struggle. “ _Please_ , Minho-hyung.”

“Can you be good and stay still for me?” Jisung nodded immediately, pressing his back firmly against the door of the refrigerator. Keeping one hand firmly in place, Minho took the other off of Jisung’s hip and slid it slowly across his waistband until it was resting just above his fly. Minho pressed in, just slightly, the tip of his pinkie finger brushing the button on Jisung’s jeans, and Jisung whimpered, tugging his bottom lip in between his teeth in an attempt to help keep himself still. It felt like hours before Minho’s hand moved, and when it did, it moved sideways before dragging torturously slow down Jisung’s thigh as he held back a groan.

Fingertips brushed the seam on the inside of his thigh and finally started to move upwards towards his inseam, so sluggishly Jisung thought he might scream. Minho was still smirking at him, though the look in his eyes had softened in a way that had Jisung’s heart thudding dangerously in his chest.

Finally, one fingertip trailed up and over Jisung’s bulge, so lightly he could barely feel it, but it was enough that he hissed, struggling to keep his hips still. Minho traced the outline of his cock for a moment, fingertips feather-light, seemingly enjoying teasing Jisung like he always did, before he finally popped open the button on his jeans, pulling the zipper down at a glacial pace as Jisung panted.

Minho took his other hand off of Jisung’s hip to tug his pants down, and then hooked his thumbs into the top of Jisung’s briefs to pull them down too, leaving them wrapped around his knees. Jisung fisted his hands at his sides as Minho dropped to his knees, grinning up at him as he traced one fingertip from the base of his cock up to the tip, barely touching him, circling the head and pulling his finger back to his own mouth to lap at the precum he’d gathered, Jisung’s stomach clenching painfully at the sight.

Jisung almost cried out when Minho finally leaned in, but then Minho’s lips were on his _thigh_ instead of where he so desperately wanted them. He couldn’t be too upset, though, the thought of Minho marking him up enough to have him sighing happily as he slumped against the fridge. Minho took his time, hands wrapped around the back of Jisung’s legs, sucking and biting at his thighs and hips until he was littered with red splotches that would definitely become bruises by morning. He leaned back to admire his handiwork, eyes traveling past Jisung’s leaking cock to see his head thrown back against the refrigerator door, eyes closed, bottom lip snagged between his teeth.

Minho slid his hands to the sides of Jisung’s thighs and then up, thumbs brushing over his hip bones softly. “How are you feeling?”

Jisung’s answer was a pleased hum, eyes blinking open to meet Minho’s, gasping when Minho leaned forward to flick his tongue over the head of his cock once. He knew what Minho wanted and he gave in easily, putty in his hands. “I feel good, you make me feel so good, _fuck_.” Minho grinned up at him before rewarding him, flattening his tongue and licking a stripe up his cock as Jisung moaned. Wrapping a hand around the base, Minho worked his lips over the head of Jisung’s cock in a kiss, slow and wet and obscene in a way that had Jisung’s knees feeling weak. They stayed that way - Minho moving his lips and tongue achingly slow over the head of Jisung’s cock, Jisung twitching against the fridge - until a knock sounded at the door.

Minho pulled back and stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while Jisung just stared, open-mouthed.

“You might want to pull your pants back up, Jisungie.”

“ _Hyung_!” Jisung’s voice was wrecked, his hands shaking as he tugged his pants back up. Unable to get his zipper back up, he settled for shuffling over to the couch and flinging himself face down into the cushions, face burning as he heard Minho answering the door to accept their dinner, his voice even and pleasant and not at all sounding like he’d been _literally_ blowing Jisung’s mind seconds before.

He could hear the sounds of the door shutting softly and Minho arranging their food on the kitchen island, plates clinking as he pulled them out of a cabinet, the sink running as he washed his hands.

“Dinner’s here, Jisungie.”

Jisung pushed himself up, turning to stare at Minho over the back of the couch petulantly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I don’t think so.” Minho smiled mischievously at him, eyes crinkled up pleasantly. “Come eat.”

The food smelled delicious - Jisung had picked it out, after all - but he was still painfully hard, his jeans constricting even though they were still unzipped. He stood, dejected, and wandered back to the kitchen, leaning against the island to stare at Minho as he tucked into their jjajangmyeon. “Really, Minho-hyung? Come _on_ ,” he whined, thinking of the orgasm he’d been so rudely denied.

“Han-ah.” Minho’s voice was sharp, his eyes knowing as he looked at Jisung. “I told you not to get too worked up, didn’t I? Eat your dinner.” Jisung flushed, but he hurried to obey Minho anway, settling onto the other stool and sipping at the glass of water Minho had put next to his plate, willing himself to calm down. After a few breaths, he served himself some of the jjajangmyeon, and by the time he’d finished his portion, he was only half hard, his pulse back to normal.

By the time they cleaned up and made it back to the couch, Jisung had managed to adjust himself and get his jeans zipped back up, and he let his mind blank out as Minho restarted the show they’d been attempting to watch before their impromptu nap. He was just starting to feel really, truly relaxed as the second episode started, and then Minho’s hand was on his thigh.

Jisung resisted the urge to look at him, letting his eyes glaze over as he stared at the television, not absorbing anything that was actually happening on it as Minho’s fingers _squeezed_ , just enough to have his dick twitching again. The hand slid higher, fingers dragging against the denim of his jeans as they made their way to his crotch. Minho’s hand settled over his cock and it took everything Jisung had to keep his hips from pushing up into the touch. He let his head drop to the back of the couch when Minho squeezed again, just barely, and then Minho was climbing into his lap. Jisung lifted his head, lips curling into a smile at the look on Minho’s face.

“Hi, hyung.” Jisung let his hands settle on Minho’s hips, sighing as Minho leaned in to press his lips to Jisung’s neck, his hips moving in lazy circles. Jisung relaxed against the couch, letting Minho do what he wanted, relishing in the way he ground down on Jisung’s lap. Nimble fingers pulled his shirt up and off, Minho’s lips moving down his chest, stopping to suck at his collarbone as his fingers tugged at Jisung’s nipple. Jisung couldn’t help it, grip tightening on Minho’s hips as he thrust upwards against him.

Minho leaned back to smirk at Jisung, slowing his hips until he was barely moving. “What was _that_ , baby?”

Jisung’s response was a stuttered ‘ _nothing_ ,’ his face flushing red under Minho’s knowing gaze.

“Do you want to fuck me, Jisungie?”

Jisung boggled at that, mouth dropping open in a way that he knew was definitely unattractive, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but the image Minho had just created in his mind was overwhelming. The idea of pushing into the heat of Minho’s body had him rutting up against Minho again.

“So eager,” Minho laughed, grinning down at him. “Want me to ride your big cock, baby?” Jisung gasped as Minho’s fingers found his nipple again. “Gonna fill me up nice and full and fuck me until I come?”

“ _Minho_.” Jisung whined his name, already so close to the edge again, gripping Minho’s hips desperately as they moved together.

And then Minho was pulling away, lifting himself off of Jisung’s lap even as Jisung struggled to pull him back down, distraught at the thought of his orgasm slipping out of his grasp for a second time.

“What the _fuck_ , hyung?”

Minho lifted an eyebrow, looking down at him from where he stood. “I thought you wanted to fuck me, but if you’d prefer to show hyung what a mess you can make of yourself with your pants still on, I could be persuaded.” His voice was just condescending enough that Jisung pictured it, coming apart underneath Minho on the couch like a teenager, sticky with his own cum, his blush returning full-force at the images his brain was conjuring. Minho seemed to know what he was imagining, tongue darting out to swipe over his bottom lip as he studied Jisung before leaning down into his space, his hand settling over Jisung’s cock again as Jisung whined. “Is that what you want, baby? Wanna make a mess for hyung?”

Jisung shook his head even as he canted his hips up into Minho’s touch. “N-no.”

Minho’s hand retreated. “No?”

“No.” Jisung stood, pressing into Minho’s space. He wished, not for the first time, that his rule about kissing didn’t exist, the thought of leaning up to kiss the smirk off of Minho’s lips almost all-consuming. He fought the thought down, reaching out for Minho’s hand to drag him up the stairs to the bedroom instead.

Minho left no questions as to who was actually in charge once they made it to the bedroom, pushing Jisung down onto the edge of the bed and tugging his pants off, hand wrapping around Jisung’s cock and stroking it roughly a few times before he stepped away to pull his own clothes off and retrieve the lube and a condom from his nightstand, tossing them onto the bed next to Jisung before settling back into Jisung’s lap.

Jisung swallowed, hands restless where they landed on Minho’s waist. Minho reached up to smooth Jisung’s hair back from his forehand, brushing his hand down over his cheek, bringing it to rest on the side of his neck. “Is this okay, Hannie?”

“Yes!” Jisung resisted rolling his eyes when Minho grinned at his earnestness. “It’s just...been a while.”

“It’ll be fine, Jisungie. I trust you.” Jisung knew that Minho didn’t mean that lightly, even if he was starting to wiggle around in Jisung’s lap again, the skin-on-skin contact spurring Jisung on. He found the lube where Minho had tossed it, and soon enough he had Minho grinding down on his fingers, head tilted back as he moaned, completely unashamed. Of course, Minho didn’t play fair - as soon as he adjusted to Jisung’s fingers, he wrapped a hand around Jisung’s cock, stroking him in time to the movements of Jisung’s own hand. It was enough to distract Jisung, his fingers slipping out of Minho, who took the opportunity to slide onto the floor between Jisung’s legs.

Jisung’s hands fisted in the sheets as Minho leaned down to wrap his lips around Jisung’s cock for the second time that day, hissing as he took Jisung all the way in, only stopping when his nose was pressed to Jisung’s stomach. Minho swallowed around him as Jisung moaned, legs shaking with effort as he tried to stay still. When Minho started moving, Jisung had to squeeze his eyes shut, fighting against his own body as the wet heat of Minho’s mouth sent him hurtling towards the edge. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to stop Minho before he came after having been denied twice already, but he still cried out at the loss when Minho pulled away just before he could actually come.

Jisung dropped back onto the bed, gasping for breath as his orgasm slipped away again, dick twitching against his stomach. The bed dipped beside him as Minho climbed back up to join him on the sheets, sliding a fingertip through the precum that was dripping steadily onto his abdomen. He could hear Minho sucking at his own finger, and he kept his eyes stubbornly shut, knowing the image would just push him closer to the edge again.

After a moment, he felt Minho’s fingers brushing softly over his arms, his shoulders, his forehead. They combed through his hair, pushing it away from where it was clinging to his face as Jisung slowly caught his breath, his heart rate calming even as his cock stayed achingly hard.

“Han-ah.” Minho’s voice was soft, and Jisung finally opened his eyes to find him watching Jisung’s face closely. “Are you alright?” Jisung nodded weakly, warming at the thought of Minho checking in with him, always so attuned to what Jisung needed. What he had needed today was to forget the stress of the last few weeks, and as much as he was loath to admit it, Minho edging him was doing a hell of a job - he was practically on the verge of forgetting his own name. His eyes slipped shut again as Minho continued to touch him, hands moving softly over his limbs and his chest until Jisung felt like he was dissolving into the sheets.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but eventually Minho’s weight settled over his thighs, and he snapped back to awareness when Minho’s hands wrapped around him to roll the condom on. Minho’s weight shifted again, and Jisung opened his eyes to find him hovering above Jisung’s body on all fours, his face just inches away. “Ready, baby?”

Jisung reached out to trail his hands up Minho’s thighs, settling them on his ass to give a brief squeeze before he nodded.

Minho lifted up, taking his hands off of the bed to set one on Jisung’s chest while he reached behind himself to line them up, and then he was sinking down onto Jisung. He moved slowly, his bottom lip caught in his teeth as Jisung whined beneath him, a stream of “ _MinhoMinhoMinhoMinho_ ” that trailed off into a cry as Minho bottomed out. Jisung felt every shift of Minho’s hips so intensely that he could feel tears gathering in his lashes, one rolling down his cheek when Minho finally started to move, bouncing on Jisung’s cock in a way that had him grasping at Minho’s hips desperately.

Jisung watched through teary eyes as Minho rode him, the hand that wasn’t planted on Jisung’s chest wrapped loosely around his own cock. Though he’d been desperate to come for what felt like hours, suddenly Jisung wanted nothing more than to watch Minho fall apart. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength to do it, but one second Minho was on top of him, and the next Jisung had flipped them both over, pressing Minho down into the bed and thrusting into him hard. Minho gasped, hand clinging to the back of Jisung’s neck now, the hand on his own cock moving furiously as Jisung fucked him. He wrapped a hand around one of Minho’s thighs and pushed it up until it was pressed against Minho’s chest, pleased when Minho cried out at the change in angle.

“Fuck, Han-ah, _fuck_ -” Minho’s voice cut off with a groan, his body clenching around Jisung telling Jisung that he was just as close to the edge. “ _Shit_ , you feel so good baby.” His fingers wound into the hair at the nape of Jisung’s neck, tugging hard in the way he knew Jisung liked. Jisung moaned, leaning down to press his mouth to Minho’s shoulder, sucking at the skin there as he sped up, stomach clenching as he tried desperately to hold himself together until Minho came. He could feel Minho tightening around him again, and he bit down on Minho’s shoulder _hard_ \- and then Minho was coming, gasping curses beneath him as Jisung chased his own orgasm, hips moving frantically, mouth slack against Minho’s skin as he _finally_ came.

His orgasm felt like it lasted forever, his mind blown white, Minho wrapped around him.

Jisung’s senses returned slowly as his orgasm ebbed away - he could feel Minho moving them, wiggling his leg out from between them and turning them both to lay on their sides. He pulled his face away from the crook of Minho’s neck and let Minho untangle their limbs before he pulled out with a wince. Minho gestured lazily at the bathroom as if Jisung didn’t know where the trash can was. Condom disposed of, Jisung studied himself in the mirror over the sink - he looked completely wrecked, tear tracks drying on his cheeks, his mouth swollen and red, his thighs covered in bruises, yet he felt better than he had in weeks.

Minho stumbled into the bathroom on weak legs to join him once he heard shower running, and Jisung found himself utterly unable to wipe the stupid smile off of his face as he watched Minho step under the shower’s spray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally going to be a throwaway line about minho edging jisung until he cried and then this chapter happened?? i hope you all enjoyed a chapter that progresses absolutely nothing besides jisung being completely whipped oops.
> 
> as always you can find me on twitter @bulletfic 🖤


	11. Chapter 11

With promotions over for their title track, it was time to move on to b-sides, which were always less stressful even though they came with their own set of wardrobe fittings, hairstyle changes, content shoots, and interviews. Still, they all welcomed the chance to unwind two weeks into promoting the b-side Chan had picked for this round when one of their sunbae groups decided to throw a party in celebration of their anniversary. Everyone from the company would be there and then some, and if nothing else, there would be enough food and booze to keep everyone happy for the evening. Plus, this was the group Chan had spent most of his trainee years, and no one could stop him from celebrating with his noonas. Jisung was just happy to have two days off in a row, always a rarity during promotions.

Since everyone would be there, it would be the prime opportunity to blow up social media with crossover selcas, and Jisung was suddenly glad the stylists had decided to forgo anything crazy with his hair this time around, just touching up his blonde so the grown-out roots looked more intentional. Chan had the company drop off some wardrobe pieces from where the stylists had them in storage to broaden their options, shoving Jisung playfully when he joked that they were all going to end up wearing all black anyway.

He wasn’t wrong, chuckling as Chan rolled his eyes at their finished ensembles. They piled into a rideshare, Chan waving cheerfully as a group of trainees he knew spilled out of the dorm after them, climbing into a waiting van.

The party was at a club that Jisung had never been to, though Felix had texted him earlier in the day to rave about the cocktails he’d had there once. Their company never did anything half-heartedly, and the sprawling space had been rented out in its entirety, two levels of dance floors and bars, a rooftop patio strung with lights, and a surprisingly sizable back terrace complete with a swimming pool that Jisung didn’t care to touch with a ten foot pole.

The club was already bustling with bodies when they arrived, though the music was still at a low enough level to allow conversation - it probably wouldn’t get too crazy until all of the executives and upper management left well into the night. Serving staff moved smoothly through the crowd offering a variety of hors d'oeuvres on trays, and people were wrapped around every bar, chatting with their own group members or reuniting with people they hadn’t seen since their various debuts.

They did a lap around the first floor, Chan stopping to speak with someone at almost every high-top table or cluster of couches while Jisung and Changbin smiled and nodded behind him, introducing or re-introducing themselves as needed. After what felt like an eternity of small talk, Changbin let them know that Felix and Hyunjin had snagged a table that was out of the way of the dancefloor, and they joined them there, pleasantly surprised to find that the bar was offering table service, the dancers having already cracked open their first bottle of champagne while another waited in the center of the table, nestled in a bucket of ice.

Jisung was struggling to settle onto one of the exceedingly tall stools clustered around the table when he looked up to see Minho walking towards their little group and slipped right off of it, a hushed curse slipping out of his mouth as he tumbled into Chan.

“Alright, Han-ah?” Chan had one eyebrow lifted, studying him carefully as he righted himself and actually made it onto the stool this time.

“I’m good, just clumsy as usual. Thanks, hyung.” While that wasn’t technically inaccurate, it wasn’t the whole truth - not that Jisung was going to tell Chan that he had literally fallen over because of how good Minho looked. _Shit_. He needed to get it together, and _fast_ , but it felt impossible with the way Minho was sidling up to the table with a little grin on his face, half of his hair swept back, a silver earring dangling from one ear, wearing some sort of gauzy, sheer shirt under his suit jacket. He looked incredible, and Jisung could feel his heart pounding in his chest, absolutely certain he was blushing.

Minho let Felix engulf him in a too-tight, too-long hug, smiling at Jisung over his shoulder. Before he could make it around the table, Hyunjin snagged him, talking animatedly about something dance-related, so Jisung forced himself to drag his eyes away, turning to Changbin and hassling him into helping fill up four more champagne flutes, because if Jisung had to do it himself, he knew that more of the champagne would end up on the floor or the table (or his own lap) than in the flutes with the way his hands were still a little shaky from Minho’s arrival.

Halfway through his second glass of champagne, Jisung had convinced himself that what he was feeling was nothing beyond a swell of affection for one of his closest friends (and maybe a teeny tiny little bit of arousal because _damn_ , Minho looked good, and _damn_ , if he was going home with anyone it would be Jisung, the thought sending a thrill down his spine) - nothing more. He snacked on whatever appetizers Changbin managed to snag from the servers as they passed by, and made polite chit chat with everyone who stopped at the table. He accepted a third glass of champagne when Felix started pouring another round, determinedly _not_ staring at Minho where he’d been pulled into a conversation that Chan was having with someone he didn’t really recognize.

Jisung sighed as a spotlight came to life, illuminating someone who was starting to give a speech in front of the DJ's setup on the stage that backed the main dancefloor. He felt Minho slide up behind him and drape his arms over Jisung’s shoulders and determinedly did not let his focus slip from said speech even as his brain was chanting _MinhoMinhoMinho_ and his body was relaxing into the familiar warmth at his back. He ignored the intense desire to turn around and wrap himself around Minho, to drag him into some dark corner and kiss him, to admit that this all meant _too much_ to him and he didn’t know when it had started and he didn’t know how to make it stop or if he even wanted it to anymore.

He finished his champagne, idly considering a refill but knowing that actually getting drunk was a terrible idea. Thank god Felix and Hyunjin had picked champagne and not something harder. Minho’s arms retreated, and then he was settling onto the stool between Jisung and Changbin, graceful as always, lifting up his own champagne to take a long sip.

Their sunbae group was under the spotlight now, their leader accepting the microphone and launching into a speech of her own as her members grinned behind her. Felix was leaning into Changbin, their hands tangled together on top the table. Hyunjin had pushed his stool closer to Chan to murmur gossip to him - Jisung watched as Chan’s eyes widened at something Hyunjin said before he reached out to flick him on the shoulder, even as he laughed under his breath.

When Jisung finally let himself turn his attention to where he wanted it most, he found Minho already watching him, his smile sending Jisung’s pulse skittering in a way that was almost frightening. Instead of actually considering what he was feeling, Jisung went for humor - he wrinkled his face up, scrunching his nose and sticking his tongue out, pleased when Minho huffed out a laugh before rolling his eyes and turning back towards the guests of honor. Relief flooded his system; he had always been adept at reading Jisung, and the thought of Minho realizing how he was feeling was terrifying. Better to deflect it all, ignore it, push it down until it wasn’t a problem anymore.

The speeches seemed to drone on, each member of the group taking their turn before finally bowing and leaving the stage to a litany of cheers. The music returned to the volume it had been at before and then slid up higher - conversation was definitely still possible if you were very close together, but Jisung wasn’t surprised when people immediately crowded the dancefloor.

Felix pulled Changbin away from the table almost immediately, begging to dance. Minho finished his first glass of champagne and Jisung refilled it for him, laughing when Minho raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m just being a good dongsaeng, hyung.” Hyunjin practically guffawed at that, chirping something about how Jisung had never been a good dongsaeng to _anyone_ , and Jisung let himself be swept up in their normal play fighting as Minho and Chan just shook their heads. As Minho finished his second glass, Hyunjin threw the rest of his back in solidarity before he was hopping off of his stool and sliding into the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, winking at Chan as he went.

Chan was in the middle of telling Minho some embarrassing story about Jisung, Jisung grumbling as he picked at the remaining food on their table, when two of their sunbaes appeared, grinning, to ruffle Chan’s hair and coo at him. Jisung just laughed as a blushing Chan let himself be pulled away by his noonas towards the rest of their group, the girls waving animatedly from a cluster of sofas near the DJ booth.

“Dance with me?” Minho’s voice was close - a low rumble in Jisung’s ear - and Jisung spun around to find that they were almost nose to nose. He swallowed slowly, eyes scanning Minho’s face, though he wasn’t sure what he was even looking for. Minho blinked at him, breaking the spell, and Jisung found himself nodding, sliding off of his seat and letting Minho take his hand to lead him into the crowd.

The music felt amplified once they were in the thick of it, the bass surging through people, the press of bodies forcing them to dance almost chest to chest. Minho moved so smoothly, even here, surrounded by people, and Jisung couldn’t tear his eyes away even if he wanted to - which he really, truly didn’t. Jisung found himself grinning dopily, flushing from the way Minho’s fingers brushed his waist as they danced. Minho leaned in closer, shoulders shimmying just to make Jisung laugh, but when he opened his eyes again, he could suddenly see Changbin and Felix over Minho’s shoulder though a break in the crowd.

It felt like the happy, warm bubble he was in with Minho burst, ice slipping down his spine. Changbin and Felix weren’t close to them, plenty of people in between them on the dancefloor, but they were definitely _watching_ them, eyes curious, even if Felix was trying to be subtle about it. Changbin’s eyes met Jisung’s, and he could almost see the question forming on Changbin’s lips, a question he was not prepared to answer yet.

Jisung jerked backwards, bumping into someone behind him, suddenly needing to be somewhere else - anywhere else.

“Jisungie?” Minho sounded concerned, reaching out towards Jisung’s face, but Jisung ducked the touch.

“I need some air.”

And then he made a break for it, dodging through bodies until he was out of the crowd, leaving Minho behind as he pushed through the doors to the terrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop.
> 
> find me on twitter @bulletfic


	12. Chapter 12

Minho found him at the far end of the terrace, pacing back and forth. No one else was around, the pool clearly holding no allure, but they could hear voices and music drifting down from the rooftop along with the distant clink of glasses.

“Han-ah?” Minho hesitated, stopping a few feet short of Jisung, who froze mid-stride to look at him wide-eyed. “What’s wrong?”

Jisung didn’t answer, head swiveling until he located a low bench against the wall of the club, stalking over to it to sit down. Minho followed him, slowly, almost like he was afraid of scaring him away. When Jisung remained seated, Minho shuffled closer, until he was right in front of the bench, standing in between Jisung’s legs. He reached out, brushing a hand through Jisung’s hair. Jisung leaned into the touch at first, the comfort of Minho’s affection a familiar temptation, but he pulled away after a moment, suppressing the awful feeling that rose inside of him at Minho’s downturned eyebrows as he pulled his hand back to his side.

“Are you going to talk to me, Jisung?”

Jisung barked out a laugh at that. “We don’t _talk_ , hyung - why would we start now?”

Minho looked unamused, eyes narrowing. “That’s not true and you know it.” Jisung at least had the good sense to look abashed at that - Minho was right. Still, some stubborn, terrified part of Jisung was lashing out, unable to deal with anything he was feeling rationally.

“Sure, hyung.”

Minho rolled his eyes at Jisung’s sarcasm, but he pressed on anyway. “What happened, Hannie?”

Jisung couldn’t look at Minho, turning his head to stare at the empty swimming pool, the water glowing an unnatural blue that almost hurt to look at. “Changbin-hyung _knows_.” He didn’t need to say any more than that - what Changbin knew was crystal clear to Minho just from the tone of Jisung’s voice and the look on his face.

Minho seemed lost for a moment, unsure of what to say. His voice was hushed when he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Jisungie.” He sounded hurt, and it made Jisung _ache_. “I thought that they knew about us.”

“There is no _‘us.’_ ” As soon as the venomous words left his mouth, Jisung regretted it, but there was nothing he could do, nothing but turn his face up towards Minho, who suddenly looked like a stranger, eyes cold, the familiar curl of his lips gone.

“Right.” His voice was biting, sending a chill through Jisung. “How could I possibly forget.” And then he was turning to leave, moving so fast that when Jisung reached out to grasp at his sleeve, he was already halfway back to the doors.

“Minho-hyung!” Jisung scrambled off of the bench, no idea what he could possibly say, but he was desperate to do _something_. Minho stopped, one hand on the door’s gaudy gold handle.

“Goodnight, Jisung.” He didn’t even turn around to look at Jisung before he opened the door and stepped back inside.

Jisung was suddenly glad he hadn’t made it more than a step away from the bench, collapsing back onto it and dropping his head into his hands.

That was how Felix found him ten minutes later, stepping hesitantly through the doors and searching the terrace for him. When he finally spotted Jisung’s slumped form, he rushed over, squatting down in front of Jisung.

“Jisung-ah?” Jisung didn’t respond, face still hidden in his hands, so Felix reached out, hesitantly placing a hand on his knee. “Sung? You’re freaking me out, please say something.”

“I think I really fucked up, Lix.” Jisung’s words were muffled in his hands, but Felix still got the gist.

“What happened?”

Jisung sighed, dropping his hands into his lap and finally meeting Felix’s eyes. As much as he’d chosen not to tell his friends about Minho for a variety of selfish reasons, they clearly knew that something was going on - the thought of telling Felix the whole story was suddenly comforting instead of terrifying, now that Jisung had actually started to confront his own feelings. He also hated the thought that he just kept hurting people - Minho, himself, and now his friends, too.

So he told Felix everything.

It hurt, talking about Minho, about how much he meant to Jisung. Having to rehash it all and especially having to admit that he had feelings for Minho out loud felt like opening a wound, his chest aching. Thankfully, Felix just listened without interjecting, his hand a comforting weight on Jisung’s knee.

Admitting everything was painful - so much that Jisung was angrily wiping tears off of his own face by the time he was done - but it felt good, too. The world hadn’t stopped spinning just because Jisung had feelings for someone. All of his rules, his plans - they had been there to prevent him from getting hurt, but now he could see that none of it had helped him in the first place. He’d ended up hurt, and he’d hurt Minho, and now he’d ruined any chance at actually having a real relationship with Minho, something he had only just realized he desperately wanted.

“That can’t be true, Sungie. There has to still be a chance.” Jisung frowned, brushing away one last tear as he looked at Felix.

“You didn’t see him, Felix. God, I was _awful_ to him.”

“I’m sure you were,” Felix started, laughing when Jisung reached out to shove him, an angry _‘yah!’_ that sounded a little bit too much like Changbin bursting out of him. Felix wobbled a bit, waiting to regain his balance before he continued. “But I have seen how he looks at you, Jisung. If he feels half as strongly about you as it _looks_ like he does...well, I don’t think one fight is the end.”

Jisung wasn’t so sure, but Felix sounded so sincere that it was hard not to take his words to heart.

“Come on, let’s go back inside before Hyunjinnie drinks the rest of the champagne without us.”

Sighing, Jisung stood and then reached out a hand to haul Felix to his feet before wrapping him in a hug. “Thanks, Lix.” Jisung smiled when Felix squeezed him tighter before letting him go to reach up and rub his thumb over Jisung’s cheek, wiping away his smudged eyeliner. “Do you think he left?”

“Who, Hyunjinnie?” Jisung rolled his eyes, shoving Felix away. “I dunno, Jisung, but there’s only one way to find out, right?”

So Jisung let Felix loop their arms together, and then they were pulling the door open; the music was louder than Jisung remembered it being, the dance floor just as crowded as it had been when he’d left.

Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin were all sitting at the table together, heads bent close in conversation. Hyunjin seemed to spot them first, and their heads all snapped up, looking exactly like they’d been caught talking about Jisung, which he was certain was the case. Still, he knew they were just worried about him, a fact he repeated to himself over and over to quell his anxiety as they made their way to the table.

No one said anything as Felix and Jisung slid onto the open stools between Chan and Changbin, Jisung not missing the way they’d moved around to leave only two open seats between them instead of three, but he wasn’t sure if that was out of sheer protectiveness of him or if they’d seen Minho leave.

“So…” Changbin elbowed Hyunjin, cutting him off with a panicked look. Jisung choked out a laugh when Hyunjin elbowed him right back. “ _What??_ I’m just talking because you’re all making this even more awkward than it already is!”

“Hyunjin’s right,” Jisung admitted with a shrug. “So I’m just going to come out and ask - has anyone seen Minho-hyung?” When everyone but Felix and Jisung shared a look at that, Jisung knew that whatever had happened wasn’t good. “What is it? Just tell me.” No one said anything; Changbin had become suddenly fascinated by the tablecloth, and Hyunjin busied himself with refilling everyone’s glasses, so Jisung turned to appeal directly to Chan. “Hyung?”

Chan sighed heavily, but turned his eyes from the table to Jisung’s face anyway. “Yeah, Minho is still here. He’s, uh - he’s by the bar.” Chan gestured vaguely in the direction of the smaller side bar - while the main bar was still fairly busy with people, Jisung could see that the bar Chan had gestured to had calmed down, which meant it was easy to see Minho perched on a stool at the far end of the bar.

It was also easy to see that he was deep in conversation with someone, heads bowed close together; to anyone else, it would look like they were just trying to hear each other over the music, but the small, curling smile on Minho’s face had Jisung feeling sick to his stomach. That smile was for _him_ , not whoever this was. Jisung could only see the back of his head for a moment, just his perfectly styled hair, but then Minho said something that had them both laughing, and suddenly Jisung could see who it was.

“Is that Kim Seungmin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's a thing.
> 
> We're nearing the end, though! I think we've only got two or three chapters left!!
> 
> If you want to yell at me, I'm on twitter @bulletfic 🖤


	13. Chapter 13

“Is that Kim Seungmin?”

Chan just nodded, looking about as enthused as Jisung felt.

“He’s Minho-hyung’s ex.” Hyunjin’s voice was matter-of-fact, and Jisung sort of wanted to throttle him for it, even as he reminded himself that literally none of this was Hyunjin’s fault.

Felix stared across the table at Hyunjin with wide eyes, imploring him to stop, but Jisung wanted to know - he wanted to press on the bruise, to feel as hurt as he deserved to for how he’d behaved.

“How - I, uh -”

Hyunjin took pity on him and responded before Jisung could keep stumbling over his words. “Hyungie told me they dated when they were trainees. I guess it was a long time ago, they broke up when Minho-hyung decided he wanted to be a choreographer and left the company.” Hyunjin shrugged, and went back to sipping his champagne.

Jisung followed suit, reaching desperately for the nearest glass, but the first sip only tasted sour in his mouth. He set the glass back down with a scowl.

Of course Kim Seungmin was Minho’s ex. Jisung didn’t know him personally - they’d only been introduced in passing once or twice - but he heard about him all the time. You couldn’t help but to hear about him in their industry; people were always going on about how amazing he was, the voice of an angel, most successful solo artist of their generation, so many music show wins and bonsangs it was practically record-breaking, no one works as hard or treats people better, wow, Kim Seungmin, what a guy.

He was probably just as amazing as everyone said, but that didn’t stop Jisung from despising him in that moment.

Not that it was Kim Seungmin’s fault that Jisung had been a stubborn asshole and ruined everything. No, that was all on himself.

His friends let him wallow for a while, just watching Minho from across the room. He looked so _happy_ , the antithesis of everything Jisung was feeling inside, but he just couldn’t look away. Minho had always been fascinating to watch, his face so animated when he was talking about something he cared about, his full attention directed at whoever he was with.

That had usually been Jisung.

Watching Minho focus like that on someone else felt _wrong_ ; Jisung knew jealousy was ugly, but he couldn’t stop the feeling now that he could admit to himself that it was jealousy - white hot, blinding, all-consuming.

Minho reached out, poking at Seungmin’s cheek playfully, and Jisung snapped, ripping the stack of cocktail napkins he had been anxiously fiddling with in half.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.”

Jisung tore his eyes away from Minho to find that Chan was the only one left at the table with him. He reached out and took the shredded napkins away, setting the scraps down on one of their empty plates. Jisung just looked at Chan imploringly, wishing for an easy solution to the problems he had caused himself.

“What do you want to do, Han-ah?”

Jisung knew Chan was a problem solver at heart, always wanting to figure out what was best for his friends, to make sure everyone was happy and healthy - Jisung had always appreciated it, though he didn’t like that fact that Chan often put everyone else’s needs before his own. He could have meant the question literally, but Jisung had a feeling he was trying to guide Jisung into sorting out the knot that was his overactive mind.

“I want to _fix this_. I want to apologize and tell him how much he means to me.” Jisung hesitated, the temptation to look for Minho across the room so strong he almost gave in. “I want him to be _happy_ , hyung. If he’s happy with someone else, well…”

Chan looked as frustrated as Jisung had ever seen, eyes narrowed, mouth downturned. “That’s bullshit and you know it, Jisung. So he ran into his ex - it sucks that it was right after you two had a fight, but you’re just going to give up? You obviously care a lot about him, and if I had to guess, I’d guess that he cares a lot about you too.”

Jisung listened to Chan’s words, considering them. Still, even if he didn’t actually believe that Minho wanted someone else, what was he going to do - march over there and make a fool of himself again? Mark his territory like an animal?

Biting his lip, Jisung let his head swivel to seek Minho out, to watch him through the crowd - but Minho was gone.

So was Kim Seungmin.

“ _Shit_.”

Jisung almost fell in his haste to jump off of his stool, Chan calling out behind him. He ignored him, weaving through the crowd and skirting around the dance floor without a concrete plan in mind besides figuring out where Minho had gone.

He leaned against the end of the bar where Minho had been only moments before, trying to catch his breath while he waited for the bartender to notice him. After a moment, the bartender made it to the end of the bar, nodding at Jisung in greeting.

“What can I get for you?”

Jisung grimaced at himself, realizing he should have thought about what to say before this moment. “Uh, kind of a weird question for you - the guy who was sitting here a minute ago, do you know where he went?”

“I think they left, actually.”

Jisung’s brain refused to absorb the implications of the bartender’s response. “They?”

The bartender leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially as if the pounding music wasn’t already enough to keep people from overhearing. “Yeah, it was that singer, Kim Seungmin. That’s who you’re talking about, right? He and his _friend_ left together.” The air-quotes around the word ‘friend’ were implied, the bartender winking to punctuate his sentence.

Jisung felt _ill_ , but he thanked the bartender with what he hoped was a normal smile, though the weird look he got in return made him think it was more of a grimace.

He made his way back over to the table slowly, feeling like he was moving through quicksand, the ache in his chest threatening to drag him down. Chan was standing, waiting for him, and Jisung let himself slump into his arms, accepting his hug, fighting the urge to start crying again.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

Jisung just nodded into Chan’s chest and let his leader take over, steering Jisung out of the club and into a taxi that was idling outside, more waiting behind it all along the curb.

The cab ride home was silent, Jisung staring out the window without actually seeing anything, grasping Chan’s hand on the seat in between them like a lifeline. Chan didn’t complain, only loosening Jisung’s grip when he had to pay the fee, letting Jisung latch back onto his hand once they were both out of the taxi.

The dorm was practically deserted - anyone who wasn’t still at the party was probably asleep. Jisung followed Chan blindly, eyes on the floor as they waited for the elevator.

Once they made it through their door and into the living room, Chan guided Jisung to the sofa, pressing him down by the shoulders before crouching down at his feet to unlace his boots, dropping them by the door as he kicked his own shoes off before disappearing into the kitchen.

Jisung stared into space, his thoughts a snarled mess. He was thankful that Chan understood him so well; other people would probably press him to talk about what was happening inside of his head, but Chan knew he was just processing his feelings, returning to press a water bottle into Jisung’s hands.

He watched Jisung to make sure he was drinking before he reached for the television remote, tuning to whatever bland channel he could find, the volume low enough to be soothing white noise. He waited patiently, occasionally getting up and moving around, shedding his jacket, stepping out of the room to answer a text, taking the water bottle from Jisung when it was empty. Jisung’s own phone was silent and still in his pocket, and eventually he offered it to Chan without speaking, knowing that Chan would keep it from him until Jisung was ready to take it back.

After half an hour of silence, Chan asked if Jisung was hungry, but he didn’t look surprised when Jisung just shook his head.

Another twenty minutes passed, and then Changbin and Felix were there, leaving their own shoes by the door and creeping past the living room towards Changbin’s room as if acknowledging Jisung would make how he was feeling worse. He appreciated the thought.

Jisung wasn’t sure how much time passed after that, but he suddenly found his eyes drifting shut even as he blinked furiously, fighting against his exhaustion. Chan noticed, and much to Jisung’s dismay, he wasn’t about to let Jisung torture himself by staying awake for an indiscernible amount of time. He shut the tv off before standing up and turning to face Jisung on the couch.

“Come on, Han-ah. You need to get some sleep.” His tone left no room for argument, and Jisung knew without a doubt that Chan would carry him to his bed if he didn’t start moving on his own.

He dragged himself up, limbs stiff, and let Chan nudge him towards the bathroom.

“Wash your face and brush your teeth.” It wasn’t a request, and as much as Jisung loathed the idea of doing anything that was beneficial to himself, he listened. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it into the hallway before rolling up his sleeves to start his skincare routine. If he was going to wash his face anyway, he may as well tone and moisturize, too. No point in having everyone nag at him when his skin ended up looking as bad as he felt.

Once he was done in the bathroom, Jisung forced himself to walk to his room. Chan was there, hanging up the discarded jacket, and Jisung pretended not to notice the box of tissues that had been placed on his nightstand next to another bottle of water.

To Jisung’s horror, Chan unplugged his laptop and picked it up before he walked to the door. “Put on some actual pajamas and go to _sleep_ , Jisung.” Chan’s voice was warm but firm, and Jisung could only sigh. “Our schedules for the next two days have been pushed back. You can sleep as late as you want.”

“Thanks, hyung.” If Jisung’s voice cracked when he spoke, Chan didn’t say anything, simply nodding in response before he flicked the light off and left, shutting the door behind him. Jisung was left alone in the gentle glow of his desk lamp, no way to bury himself in work, nothing to distract him.

He stripped off the rest of his clothes, tossing them haphazardly onto his hamper. He found what he was looking for easily, pulling Minho’s hoodie and sweatpants out of his closet and tugging them on, knowing he was being pathetic but not really caring.

Jisung left the desk lamp on, curled up on top of his sheets, and cried himself to sleep.

He woke up a handful of hours later, feeling much more clear-headed than he anticipated. He still hurt all over, an aching pain that he anticipated would only abate with time, or if Minho forgave him. Whichever came first.

The facts were obvious, really. He wanted Minho - wanted to actually try having a real relationship with him. Minho wanted someone else - his flawless ex, who probably didn’t shut him out all of the time and say terrible things to him. He couldn’t deny that he was mind-numbingly jealous, but he also wanted Minho to be happy. Minho _deserved_ to be happy. As much as it would hurt to see him with someone else, he also couldn’t bear the thought of losing Minho from his life entirely.

So he needed to go apologize.

A bitter, stubborn part of him wanted to find out if they really had gone home together, to get in between them and prove that Minho was _his_ , but he let the rational part of his mind push those thoughts away. There was no point in getting his hopes up. He had fucked up royally, and he didn’t deserve Minho. He’d be lucky if Minho even accepted his apology and let Jisung stick around even as a friend.

He pushed himself out of bed, pulling off the sweatpants to change into jeans. He was keeping the sweatshirt on - fuck it. It made him feel better.

It was earlier than he had anticipated, weak sunlight just starting to filter through the windows in the dorm. Changbin’s door was still firmly closed as he passed by on his way to brush his teeth and wash his face, frowning at how puffy he was in the mirror, eyes rimmed pink from how much he’d cried.

Chan was in the living room, legs crossed under the coffee table and headphones on, eyes glued to his computer. If he was surprised that Jisung was awake he didn’t show it, reaching into the front pocket of his hoodie to pull out Jisung’s phone, offering it to him silently. Jisung accepted it but didn’t turn it on, tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans and shuffling to the door to put his boots on.

Between the beanie he had tugged on, his glasses, and a black mask he grabbed on his way out the door, he was anonymous enough to feel comfortable on the subway. He wanted the background noise to distract his brain, the gentle rocking of the train soothing him; if he wanted a rideshare he’d have to turn his phone on, and if a driver tried to make small talk with him, he thought he might lose it. He let the low murmur of the commuters wash over him, his ride ending before he knew it.

He found himself in front of Minho’s building, shoving his mask into his pocket, his entire body buzzing with anxiety. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to even talk to Minho, or if he was just going to puke right here on the sidewalk. What if Minho didn’t answer the door? Or worse, what if he did, but he slammed it in Jisung’s face? What if _someone else_ answered the door instead? Jisung knew he was working himself up, and he swallowed his fear down. Minho deserved an apology, even if it would kill Jisung to do it.

Once he made it to Minho’s door, it felt like his nerves tripled, but standing silently in the hallway forever wasn’t an option.

Jisung took a deep breath, steeled himself, and knocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there, I promise!!
> 
> Come yell at me on twitter [@bulletfic](https://twitter.com/bulletfic)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are, folks. i hope it was worth the wait!

It didn’t take long for Jisung to hear footsteps, and then the door was swinging open, revealing Minho. Minho, whose smile slid off of his face as soon as he saw that it was Jisung. Minho, who looked very much straight out of bed, his hair messy like someone had been running their fingers through it, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants low on his hips. Jisung could smell coffee brewing, so familiar from all of his time spent at Minho’s apartment. He wanted nothing more than to be the one Minho was making coffee for, but that wasn’t his life anymore. The ache in his chest was suddenly back, full force.

“What do you want, Jisung?” Minho crossed his arms over his bare chest, his voice cold as he stared blankly at Jisung, one eyebrow lifting when he noticed that Jisung was wearing Minho’s sweatshirt. He didn’t say anything else, and Jisung forced himself to open his mouth and speak.

“I know I have no right to be here after the way I acted last night.” Jisung tried to keep his voice calm and even, though it was a struggle with the way Minho was looking at him, the icy look in his eyes so wildly unfamiliar. “I just...panicked.”

“Because you don’t want your friends to know that you’re sleeping with me.”

Jisung shook his head. “That’s not it, hyung.”

“Then what _is_ it?”

“When we met, I told you I didn’t date, but I don’t think I ever told you why. I’ve had some bad experiences before, and I’ve learned that I don’t handle losing people well.” Minho’s eyes narrowed slightly at that. “No one does, right, obviously, and everyone has bad breakups, I know that. I _know_ that. You’re just - you’re really important to me, you know?” Jisung felt like he was tripping over his words, like nothing he was saying made any sense, but he soldiered on anyway, knowing he needed to explain everything before he could run away and go back to crying alone in his bed.

“If we really were _just_ sleeping together, I wouldn’t have reacted like that.” Minho opened his mouth at that, but whatever he needed to say could wait - if Jisung was going to get it all out on the table, he needed to do it right now. “Somehow I let myself believe that if they knew about us, it would make my feelings _real_ , and if my feelings were real, I could get hurt. If I keep pretending, no one gets hurt, right?” Jisung looked down, focusing intently on his hands, fingers twisted together anxiously. “ _That_ clearly worked out for me. I hurt _you_ , which is worse, and then I came over here and ruined your morning like an asshole, god, I’m _so_ sorry, hyung, I’ll just go-”

Minho grasped his wrist before Jisung could turn to flee, pulling him back toward the doorway. “What do you mean about ruining my morning?”

Why was _that_ what Minho was focused on? Jisung bit his lip, hesitant to respond.

“Your - uh - your ex is here, right? Seungmin-ssi?” He gestured lamely at Minho’s state of partial undress. “You can go back to bed, hyung, really, I’ll go, I just wanted to apologize for being an ass.”

Minho blinked at him, his mouth curling slowly into a smirk as he released Jisung’s wrist to lean a shoulder against the doorframe. “Are you jealous, Hannie?”

Jisung flushed, caught off guard, pinned in place by Minho’s eyes.

“Seungmin’s not here.”

“Oh.”

“Not that the offer wasn’t there,” Minho added, the corner of his mouth curling. Jisung tried to stop his face from twisting into a grimace at that, but he wasn’t sure how successful he’d been. “I came home alone, though.”

Jisung blinked, his brain struggling to comprehend what Minho was trying to tell him.

“I don’t _want_ to bring anyone else home, Hannie.”

“ _Oh_.”

“I thought that much was obvious.”

Jisung just stared, hands useless at his sides as Minho pushed off of the doorframe and stepped closer.

“I also thought it was fairly obvious that I have feelings for you, too. I know you don’t want a relationship, I knew that the whole time, but I couldn’t help it. I knew I was getting in over my head, but I was selfish. It’s really my fault that we’re here - I shouldn’t have pressed you or expected you to change for me.”

Minho’s smile slipped away as he spoke, his eyes downcast, and Jisung’s heart ached at the thought that he’d been hurting them both unnecessarily for a long time.

“ _Hyung_.” Minho looked up at the plaintive tone in Jisung’s voice and Jisung couldn’t wait any longer to surge forward and close the distance between them, pressing his lips to Minho’s desperately.

Kissing Minho had heat climbing through Jisung’s body, all-consuming, licking at his skin as he pressed closer, wrapping himself around Minho like he never wanted to let him go, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might beat out of his chest. Jisung could feel himself growing frantic but he couldn’t stop, even as he felt Minho smiling against his lips, hands coming up to cradle Jisung’s skull gently, his fingertips sliding under the edge of Jisung’s beanie.

Minho pulled back after a moment, chuckling quietly as Jisung chased his mouth.

“ _Baby_.” Minho’s voice was undeniably fond, one thumb stroking slowly over Jisung’s cheekbone. Jisung sighed, leaning into the affection. “Do you want to come inside?” Jisung opened his eyes, shocked to find himself still standing in Minho’s doorway, and let Minho pull him inside, shutting the door behind him. Minho backed him up against it slowly, Jisung’s heart still thundering in his chest.

“You really want this, Han-ah?” Minho sounded unsure, but his eyes were hopeful as they met Jisung’s.

“I want to try, hyung.” Jisung smiled up at him, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist, leaning forward to rub their noses together. “I’m a mess, and I really don’t want to fuck this up and hurt you again, but…” He trailed off, the thought of kissing Minho again making him feeling dizzy, anticipation turning him shaky. “I think the risk is worth it.”

He let Minho bridge the gap this time, holding back a gasp as he pressed their lips together sweetly, softly, moving so slowly that Jisung felt like he might combust. Sharp teeth nipped lightly at his bottom lip and then he did gasp; Minho licked into his mouth and Jisung went pliant, relief and pleasure and joy filling him up as he slumped back against the door.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that - he knew it was a cliché, but now that he’d let himself kiss Minho, he could have gone on that way forever. At some point, Minho had pressed one of his thighs between Jisung’s legs and he found himself mindlessly moving against it, hips swiveling as Minho’s lips moved to his jaw, his neck, nimble fingers tugging at the hem of his hoodie, slipping underneath to press into the skin of his waist.

Jisung pulled his hands away from the warmth of Minho’s back, raising his arms so Minho could tug off his hoodie. He pouted when it got tangled around his arms halfway off of his body, stuck over his head, snagged on his glasses and his beanie, whining as Minho laughed before freeing him to press their mouths back together gently. Jisung grabbed the whole mess of fabric from Minho’s hands, tossing the bundle to the side, not caring about his glasses or about anything that wasn’t Minho.

Even having their bare skin pressed together suddenly wasn’t enough for Jisung. He pulled back to blink up at Minho.

“ _Hyung_.” His voice came out as a whine, pitchy and embarrassing, the word drawn out. He could feel himself flushing as Minho smirked down at him.

Of course, Minho knew what he needed - he had _always_ known what Jisung needed, right from the moment they met, and that knowledge warmed Jisung all over, stroking the fire raging inside of him.

“C’mere.” Minho’s voice was tender, matching the look on his face as he wrapped his arms around Jisung and lifted him up.

“God, I love it when you do that.” The admission was mumbled into the skin of Minho’s neck as Jisung clung to him, sighing happily as Minho started up the stairs.

“I know, baby,” Minho laughed, “that’s why I do it so much.”

Minho dropped Jisung onto the bed, so much like the first time they’d done this - but now, Jisung let himself grin dopily up at Minho, let himself actually bask in the way he was feeling instead of trying to push it down.

He watched as Minho knelt down, unlacing Jisung’s boots and tugging them off. His hands were warm even through the denim of Jisung’s jeans as they wrapped around his ankles before sliding up higher, running over his calves, moving up to press his thighs apart as Minho climbed up onto the bed, settling in between Jisung’s legs.

They had done this so many times, but Jisung’s heart was racing at the look in Minho’s eye, and he could feel himself mirroring Minho’s smile without meaning to as Minho reached out to run a hand from Jisung’s neck up to his cheek. Jisung nudged his face into Minho’s fingers, seeking more affection, and Minho’s grin widened.

Jisung had wanted to kiss Minho so many times before that the desire for it no longer caught him off guard like it used to. He knew that he could bridge the distance now, knew that Minho would gladly kiss him back until he was shaking, but now - now he wanted Minho to kiss _him_.

Somehow, in all of his daydreams and all of the thoughts he had fought to shove down, it had always been Jisung making the first move, though he was sure it was because the no-kissing rule was his own. Now that it was a possibility, though, all he could do was wait longingly as Minho hovered above him, desperate for Minho to lean down and take control, claiming Jisung’s mouth with his own. He wanted Minho to kiss him again so much that it was almost shameful, and he knew that he was blushing just thinking about it, averting his eyes from Minho’s curious gaze, biting at his bottom lip. 

Minho shifted above him, pressing their hips together, startling a moan out of Jisung as his hand tightened on his jaw, forcing Jisung to look at him.

Still, Minho didn’t make a move, dark eyes flicking over Jisung’s face, studying him - making him wait.

Jisung whined wordlessly, squirming underneath Minho, begging for Minho to do something - _anything_. Minho’s mouth curled up into a smirk so familiar that it sent a frisson of arousal straight to Jisung’s cock.

Minho’s thumb brushed over his bottom lip, pulling it out from between his teeth.

“You know what I’m going to say, Hannie.” Jisung nodded, but remained stubbornly silent, fighting down a smile when Minho lifted an eyebrow at him. “Are you really going to be a brat right now?”

Jisung shook his head, opening his mouth and letting the words spill out so fast they almost ran together, determined to be good, to give Minho what he wanted - what he deserved. “No, hyung, please, I just want you to kiss me _so bad_ I’ve been waiting for it for so long and I like you so much it’s _stupid_ please just-”

Minho cut him off with his lips, pressing them firmly to Jisung’s for a long moment before he pulled back. His smile was so bright that Jisung felt his heart clench at the sight.

“All you had to do was ask, Jisungie.” Even though his smile was genuine, Minho sounded so _smug_ , and his derisive tone made Jisung’s dick twitch. Minho leaned back down, so close that his lips brushed over Jisung’s as he spoke. “Is that all you want, hmm? For hyung to kiss you?” He pressed his lips to Jisung’s again, not waiting for an answer, moving slowly and deliberately, his tongue swiping over Jisung’s bottom lip and dipping inside of his mouth. He kissed Jisung until they were both breathless, until Jisung was moaning into his mouth, hands clutching at Minho’s shoulders weakly.

“Well?” Jisung blinked, staring up at Minho, uncomprehending. Minho’s smirk returned full-force. “Is that all you wanted?”

Right - Minho had asked a question and then kissed any potential answer right out of Jisung’s brain. He shook his head to clear it, but he still felt hazy with lust, crying out when Minho leaned in to nip at his mouth again, his fingers still firm on Jisung’s jaw.

Jisung managed to gasp out a weak ‘ _no_ ’ when Minho looked at him again.

“What else do you want, baby?”

Fighting through the fog of his arousal, Jisung tried to string a sentence - _any_ sentence - together, to beg for Minho to stop teasing him, but he couldn’t find the words. Minho’s grip on his chin loosened, and his thumb stroked softly over the corner of Jisung’s mouth until Jisung calmed, his hands sliding down Minho’s back to his hips, tugging him closer and flexing underneath him; he was rewarded with a soft gasp.

“ _Please_ , hyung, I need you.”

It must have been enough - Minho was on him almost before he got the words out, rolling his hips down as he pressed their lips back together desperately. Knowing that Minho was just as affected as he was had Jisung feeling lightheaded, gasping and whimpering into Minho’s mouth.

Jisung slipped his hands into the waistband of Minho’s sweatpants, pleased to find only bare skin underneath. He grasped at Minho’s ass, trying to find a rhythm as they ground against each other, but then Minho was pulling back, slipping out of Jisung’s grasp to stand up. Jisung swallowed his noise of disappointment when he realized that it was only so Minho could work on getting rid of their remaining clothing before rifling through his bedside table to grab lube and a condom, tossing them onto the sheets next to Jisung before he returned to the bed, flipping Jisung over onto his stomach so swiftly that his head swam.

His hands found Jisung’s hips, tugging him up onto his knees. Jisung could hear Minho opening the lube, and he wiggled his ass, as if he could entice Minho to move any faster, like they weren’t already both verging on frantic. He couldn’t help but moan when Minho’s fingers finally rubbed over his rim, hands tangling in the sheets as Minho pressed inside.

Minho was a certified expert on Jisung’s body by now, and he knew exactly how to work Jisung open until he was nothing but a whimpering mess, face pressed into the sheets, hips pushing back against Minho’s hand as he tried to fuck himself on Minho’s fingers, begging endlessly for _morehyungpleasemore_. Minho usually liked to draw this part out, tormenting Jisung for as long as he could, but Minho’s impatience was tangible now, mirroring Jisung’s own desires.

Apparently satisfied with the wreck he’d made of Jisung, Minho slid his fingers out, stopping to lean down and nip at the swell of Jisung’s ass, reaching under him for a moment to wrap his hand around the head of Jisung’s cock. A mangled string of curses slipped out of Jisung as he thrust into Minho’s hand.

“Hyung, _fuck_ \- I _can’t_ …”

Minho released him, leaning back to retrieve the condom as Jisung fought to catch his breath - it was a wasted effort, all of the air rushing back out of him in a gasp as Minho grasped onto Jisung’s hips and slid into him in one single thrust.

He fucked Jisung hard and deep, setting a slow pace that had Jisung curling his hands uselessly and arching his back, the fire his stomach unfurling and spreading through his whole body. Jisung pushed himself up onto his hands, desperate for leverage to push back against Minho, meeting his thrusts as best he could.

Something caught his eye, distracting him momentarily; he could see the mirror next to Minho’s dresser from this angle, could see Minho driving into him, could see his own face staring open-mouthed back at him. He couldn’t look away, his gut clenching at the sight of Minho fucking him, at how wrecked his own reflection was.

Minho noticed that Jisung’s movements had grown sloppy and haphazard, and then he looked up and met Jisung’s eyes in the mirror - Jisung stared, hypnotized, as his reflection flushed bright red, his pupils dilating as he watched Minho watch _him_. Minho’s smile curled wickedly, and then he leaned over Jisung, wrapping his arms around Jisung’s chest to tug him upright until his back was flush against Minho’s chest.

One of Minho’s hands slid down to Jisung’s stomach, the backs of his knuckles brushing Jisung’s cock, while the other moved up to his throat, holding Jisung in place as Minho flexed his hips, dragging his length over Jisung’s prostate. Jisung moaned brokenly.

“Look at you.” Minho’s voice was a low rumble in Jisung’s ear. “Taking me so well, my good boy. It’s like you were made for me.” Minho fucked up into Jisung again, his teeth scraping over Jisung’s earlobe. “ _Mine_.”

Jisung gasped, head thrown back on Minho’s shoulder. “ _Yours_ , o-only yours.”

Minho cursed under his breath and pushed Jisung back down onto the bed, gripping his waist and fucking into him roughly, so hard and fast that Jisung keened. He could feel that he wasn’t going to last, his emotions getting the better of him and sending him hurtling towards the edge. Minho must not have been far behind, his hips speeding up and his hands tightening on Jisung’s skin.

“ _Fuck_ , Han-ah, touch yourself for hyung.”

It wasn’t easy, but Jisung couldn’t not listen, compelled by the rough edge to Minho’s voice. He shifted his weight and slipped one of his arms underneath himself until he could wrap his hand into a loose fist around his cock. He let Minho’s thrusts push him forward so that he was fucking into his own hand, chasing his orgasm, gasping and whining and pleading for Minho in a rambling stream of consciousness that he couldn’t stem. Minho shuddered, his hips stuttering as he came, moaning Jisung’s name; Jisung squeezed his hand tighter around himself and it was enough for his own orgasm to slam into him full-force.

Minho leaned down, draping himself over Jisung’s back, and Jisung tugged his arm out of the way so that he could slump into the sheets under Minho’s comforting weight. Eventually, Jisung turned his head in an attempt to look at Minho over his shoulder.

“Hyung.”

Minho smiled down at him before he leaned away, pulling out and flinging the condom off the side of bed before laying back down, half on top of Jisung. “Jisungie.” Jisung wrinkled his face up, but Minho just rolled his eyes. “The floor’s laminate, I’ll clean it up later.”

“Hyung, will you carry me to the shower?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Minho smiled fondly at him, leaning in to press a kiss to Jisung’s shoulder.

“Will you _fuck me_ in the shower?”

Minho laughed at that, the sound warming Jisung from the inside out. “I will fuck you wherever you want, whenever you want, Hannie.”

It sounded like a promise, and Jisung intended to hold him to it.

_Six Months Later_

Jisung set his drink down with a sigh, the sound of glass on glass swallowed in the pounding bass of the club. He could see Chan on the dance floor, his ears bright red as Hyunjin inched ever closer, pushing Chan’s limits as always. Changbin and Felix looked up from the other side of the table where they were huddled in hushed conversation, but Jisung waved them off with a smile.

He stood, pushing off of the plush loveseat he’d been sitting on, wandering over to the railing that overlooked the lower level of the club. Turning back to look into the VIP section, he leaned against the railing; he let his eyes slide past the crowd of bodies moving to the music and found himself drawn to the man he could never keep his eyes off of, no matter how hard he tried.

Minho had been waved over to another table by someone who recognized him - he was listening intently to whatever the group was talking about, but almost as if he could feel Jisung looking, his head snapped up, and he met Jisung’s eyes. Jisung smiled at him, watching as Minho said something before standing to walk over to Jisung, a familiar predatory glint in his eye.

“Hi.”

“Hi. You’re not going to tell me staring is rude?”

Minho laughed, wrapping his arms around Jisung’s waist and pulling him close. “Let me tell you a secret.” He leaned in, his lips bushing the shell of Jisung’s ear as he spoke. “I like it when you stare at me.” He pulled back, grinning down at Jisung, who was trying to suppress a smile of his own.

“You’re so _greasy_.”

Minho just hummed, leaning back in to brush his nose against Jisung’s. “You love it.”

“I love _you_.” Jisung tilted his head up, batting his eyelashes until Minho closed the gap and pressed their lips together.

“I love you too, baby.”

Jisung didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing those words from Minho, and he surged up to kiss him again, nipping at Minho’s bottom lip and licking into his mouth. Minho tightened his hold on Jisung’s waist, kissing him back until they could hear Changbin fake-retching at their table.

They pulled apart and Minho turned to wink at Changbin as Jisung laughed. Changbin responded with an inappropriate hand gesture, which Jisung returned with a grin.

Minho curled a hand around Jisung’s jaw possessively, tugging his face back towards Minho so that he could kiss him again.

“Get a room!” Changbin’s voice was loud, but the music in the club almost drowned him out - or maybe that was Felix slapping his hand over his boyfriend’s mouth.

When they broke apart, the look in Minho’s eyes was all too familiar, and it sent a spike of arousal through Jisung. Minho slipped a finger through one of Jisung’s belt loops and tugged; Jisung followed helplessly, just like he always did.

It sounded suspiciously like Felix said “ _oh my god, not again_ ” into his drink as they passed by, and Jisung stifled a laugh.

Slipping past the dance floor, Minho led him down a hallway Jisung remembered like it was yesterday, pushing open a darkly-tinted glass door to lead him out onto the terrace. It was quiet once the door closed behind them, muffling the music from inside. The terrace was blessedly empty, and Minho pushed Jisung into their little alcove, hiding them between two decorative potted trees.

Once Minho had him pressed up against the wall, he leaned in; Jisung looped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and let himself be kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end!!!
> 
> this is the first chaptered fic i've ever finished, much less posted (in any fandom i've written for), and i can not thank you all enough for all of the amazing comments, kudos, bookmarks, and subs. you're all lovely and i couldn't have done this without you! 💖💖
> 
> i know i've posted a lot of not-minsung recently, but i do have another chaptered minsung fic in the works if that's something you're looking for, and i'm sure it will have more than a little bit in common with twenty carats 😅 so keep an eye out for that i guess?
> 
> as always you can come yell at me on (nsfw) twitter [@bulletfic](https://twitter.com/bulletfic) \- i also post wip snippets, etc., and i share links to my new fics in case you're not into ao3 subscriptions.
> 
> i love you all so much!!! thanks for taking this journey with me (and minsung). 💕


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